Proud, Beautiful and Strong
by Philosophie88
Summary: Gil-galad's daughter remains in Middle Earth after the Last Alliance. She finds love, friendship and family in spite of being an "orphan". This is a Thranduil/OC, Glorfindel/OC fanfic, but will also focus on other characters such as Galion, Elrond/Celebrian, Erestor/OC, and in later chapters, the Twins, Lindir and Legolas and maybe even Arwen and a young Estel. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: A Relentless Suitor

**Prologue - Imladris Beginning of the Third Age of Middle Earth**

Pain–a numb pain–an empty hollowness filled her soul. Her slender fingers lay upon her lap, hands folded one onto the other; her back was rigid as she sat in her ebony chair, eyes blank, staring out the window to the east, hopeless, waiting for one who would not return.

The door behind her creaked open, but still the _elleth_ did not turn from her desolate trance.

"_Naneth_… " came the whispered voice of a young _elleth_. "_Naneth_, you must eat... please _Naneth_… "

She shook herself from her stupor and turned slowly to face her child, her eyes devoid of any emotion save deep sorrow.

"What is the point? He is gone. The enemy is defeated but he is gone."

"We knew this to be a possibility," replied the younger one, as she crossed the room to set a tray upon a small side table and knelt before her mother. "In your heart you must have prepared yourself for father to not return." She took her frail hands in her own. They shook slightly, and her mother sighed softly. "_Nana_… "

"Little star, my dear little star, I had hoped against hope... but it was in vain. I had hoped for the shadow to be defeated, your father to return and to see you married with elflings of your own," the elder _elleth _smiled slightly. "He would have loved grandchildren, spoiled them greatly. But alas, Sauron destroyed more than a life that day, he destroyed a future."

"Nay, _N__aneth_, say not so. _Ada_ would have wanted us to continue on to be happy. I will marry one day and you will live to see your grandchildren; you cannot fade… you cannot… " her voice broke as she uttered these last words.

Her mother looked down on her daughter then, unsure of what comfort she could offer her amidst her own grief. Gently she caressed her daughter's beautiful face as she had often done when she was a small elfling.

"Oh little star, I will not fade, but I am not whole any longer, and I cannot tarry on these shores. Only if you too come west will I see the grandchildren I desire; but I do not think that to be... Lord Glorfindel still remains in Middle Earth."

In spite of her tears, the young _elleth_ snorted. "He will remain quite lonely in Middle Earth if he does not cease his suit."

"Perhaps your heart will change, for he is an honorable _ellon_."

"But I do not love him... not like you love _Ada_," She added quietly. "If I loved someone, I want to love them like you love _Ada_."

"And you shall, but I still do not believe your time to sail has come."

Her daughter sighed. "Nay, It has not. I shall remain with Elrond. I will miss you, _Naneth_… "

She laid her head in her mother's lap for a few passing moments, and mother and daughter remained in the tender embrace for a while as the elder stroked her daughter's raven tresses. Then the younger one sat up and gestured to the tray she had brought in. "You must eat though; you must have nourishment for your journey West. The high Queen of the Noldor cannot arrive on the shores of the Blessed emaciated and grief-stricken; no, you must be proud–proud, beautiful and strong."

The Queen finished the last three words with her daughter. _"Proud, beautiful and strong" _was what Gil-galad had said when he first met her; they were the virtues she had striven to instill in her daughter from a young age. Now that she was leaving Middle Earth, she could only hope that her daughter would live up to them. Would she find and accept an _ellon_ who would say the same about her one day? Glorfindel thought of her thus no doubt, but she did not return his affection. Would she have a daughter of her own to teach those words too? She was well loved by the little elflings of Imladris, though there were only a few. She no doubt would be an excellent mother. _"Proud, beautiful and strong." _The queen took the plate from her daughter and began to eat, determined to acquiesce to her daughter's commands if only to grant her some small happiness before she left. Who would she care for when she departed? Who would be the recipient of her ever-giving heart? For a time most likely it would be Elrond; he was her cousin, after all, and she would remain with him until she found her mate, her other half. Who would it be, she wondered. But she would not know for many an age. She had lost her husband, and now, because of her grief, she would lose her daughter. Tears threatened to spill, but did not. _"Proud, beautiful and strong."_ It was all she had ever been and all she would be. She only could hope that her daughter would be the same, despite the fact she would soon be orphaned.

"You should not worry so, _Nana_… I will be fine." Her daughter's voice broke her silent reverie. "And when my time is done, I will sail with my family. Perhaps Manwë will be kind and release father's _feä_, and we shall all be reunited. We must have hope, _Nana_. We have eternity, and it is useless without hope."

Yes, thought the queen before she could muster a response, she will be fine. She had hope, in spite of the grief she had seen, and her hope would be enough to keep her proud, beautiful and strong in a rather weary world.

* * *

**_Imladris, T.A. 107 Winter_**

"I do not see why you trouble yourself."

"Because, _mellon nin_, tonight is the night!"

"The night? It is only Yule."

"Only Yule?!" Blonde eyebrows shot up incredulously. "Nay, it is more than just Yule, _mellon nin_, it is the night I win the heart of the beloved Gíl-wen."

Erestor sighed in exasperation at Glorfindel's futile optimism. Glorfindel and Gíl-wen had been friends for an age and it was unlikely to change because of the warrior's new found heart. Erestor put his head in his right hand and leaned upon the mantel piece for support, a little too close to the lighted candles. His fair face twisted in a perplexed frown. "You must be desperate indeed if you call me 'friend'."

"Oh quiet, Erestor... One of these days, she will relent and let me court her. She will. She must. I love her."

"Of course… "

"She needs only to give me the chance and she will love me too."

"Of course… "

"She will see we are meant to be."

"Of course… "

"She will most likely give me permission tonight."

"Of course… "

"Your hair is on fire."

"Of course… "

"Seriously, Erestor, it is."

* * *

The Hall of Fire was bright with candles and holly berries and evergreen boughs for the Yule ball that was held yearly for the inhabitants of Imladris. Dancing, song and revelry lasted long into the cold starry night, and the elves in the hall were all but oblivious to the swirling white snow that fell silently in the calm valley. All but one...

In a corner of the warm hall, oblivious to the festive merry-makers, Gíl-wen blew on the frosted pane and outlined _t__engwar_ in the crystal-cloud that formed from the warmth of her breath. She had danced with several of the _ellyn_ and now sought a brief rest. She felt giddy, a bit like an elfling, as she traced the patterns upon the pane, but tonight was the first night since her mother's parting that she did not feel the grief as keenly. It had only been a hundred years and she was slowly healing. Yes, the pain from her parting was still there, a dull ache that could never go away, but she felt that her mother was in a better place to heal from the grief of her father; there was always chance that her parents would be reunited. Gíl-wen was as happy as she could be in the circumstances and she only could only hope that her mother had found some peace in the Blessed Realm.

"Happy Yule, _Naneth_… " She murmured under her breath and turned to face the boisterous crowd; however, a bright young golden haired elleth obscured her view of the revelry.

"Come, Gíl-wen, you must dance!"

"Shouldn't you be bothering Elrond, Cel?" she asked, eyebrows raised in faint annoyance.

"Of course, but you should be bothering to find yourself a suitor. Lord Glorfindel just arrived," Celebrian announced with a pompous air, then giggled slightly.

"Not him, again."

"Yes, him, indeed. He looks quite handsome. Erestor is with him, and his hair appears to be singed. I wonder what happened." More giggling.

"Really, Cel, how much wine have you consumed?"

"Only one goblet, but Gíl, oh Gíl, I am in love."

"Yes, with Elrond, I know."

"Don't be such a spoil sport. It's Yule! At least dance with Glorfindel."

Gíl-wen sighed resignedly. "One dance... and it doesn't mean I am going to court him."

"Of course… "

"He is rather an insufferable _ellon_."

"Of course… "

"He tells the worst jokes."

"Of course… "

"But I guess, if I must..."

"Of course… " And with that, Celebrian pushed her gently in the direction of the approaching_ ellyn._


	2. Chapter 2: Just a Dance

**Here is Chapter Two! Thanks for following/liking my story. It is encouraging! Replies to reviews at end of chapter.**

* * *

Glorfindel and Erestor slowly approached the two _ellyth_, Erestor slightly hanging back so that his friend could approach Gíl-wen to press his suit.

"Princess," he said, bowing slightly, his hand over his heart in respect.

Gíl-wen raised her eyebrows. "Glorfindel, I am hardly a princess anymore, especially not to you, _mellon nin._ Please do not address me as such. It makes me feel rather haughty; I am simply Gíl-wen, or, Gíl, or, if you insist, Lady Gíl-wen."

"Very well, Lady Gíl-wen, may I have this dance?"

"If you insist… " And she put her small hand in the Golden Lord's with a small sigh. As he led her to the midst of the dancers, Erestor moved to speak with Celebrian.

"They make a good couple, my lady, do you not think so?" he said to her, a hint of humor in his voice.

"Indeed," Celebrian replied. " And yet I do not believe they are_ fëa_ mates. She is too, well, too forceful, stubborn, and independent for him, to say the least. She needs someone with just as much spirit as herself; one who can contradict her as forcefully as she contradicts others. Someone with spirit and temper to match. Fin has slain a balrog, it is true, yet I fear he will not tame Gil-galad's daughter."

"As fierce as a balrog, that one… " Erestor agreed.

"As stubborn as a dwarf… "

"Hmmmm, yes, true, true; but she is kind and beautiful as well, and Fin admires her for this reason."

"Well, she made it clear to me that this is 'just a dance', so he must continue to admire from afar."

* * *

As the two discussed the unlikelihood of a courtship between the Princess and the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, the pair in question wove skillfully in and out of the dancing elves; their conversation, however, was not as skillful as their footwork.

"You look quite lovely tonight, Gíl-wen."

"ummmhmmmm… "

"Your dress is stunning; did you make it yourself?"

"I hate sewing. You know this… "

A few more turns.

"I hear you helped Erestor in the library the other day– "

"No, no, that was not me. I was only passing by to torment the poor thing."

"Awww, I see… "

The dance ended in awkward silence and Glorfindel hesitated in front of Gíl-wen, before mustering the courage to ask:

"Perhaps, my lady, you would like to accompany me to a quieter setting?"

"Why should I do such a thing, my lord? To struggle even more with conversation?" She bestowed a look of sympathy on the obviously love-struck _ellon_. "I am sorry, Glorfindel, but truly I cannot give you all you ask for; I only promised one dance." She moved away from the revelry, but he followed, not wishing to give up so easily.

"Am I too lowly for you, my lady? Is it my past that bothers you so? Pray tell me what it is. I can change. For you. I would slay another balrog."

"Fin," Gíl-wen sighed. "This is not you. This… " She gestured to his person. "This is a love struck _ellon_ in front of me and not the carefree friend of my childhood. We are not well suited to each other, Fin, and you know this. You are too kind for me."

" I can be forceful."

"Fin… "

"I can be stubborn. I have not given up on you yet, have I?"

"Fin… "

"Please, Gíl, please… can we try?"

"I said just a dance."

"We can take things slow… just a dance here and there, a picnic once in a while…"

Gíl-wen sighed again and looked straight into his blue eyes: "Are you certain you wish to do this? You could get hurt, Fin, and it is the last thing I wish to do to a friend."

It was indeed the last thing she wished to do. She could not pinpoint exactly why or what it was that was keeping her from giving her heart to Glorfindel. They had been friends since she had been a young _elleth_. He had taught her how to use a bow, and she had taught him how to play pranks on Erestor. Then, before the last war, he had changed. Well, to be fair, she had changed, and he had noticed. But she could not return his affection. In her mind, he was like her brother. Perhaps _she_ was being too stubborn, she thought as she eyed her starry-eyed pleading companion. Perhaps if she relented, if she tried, it would not be too awkward. Glorfindel broke through her silent musings.

"I_ am_ certain, Gíl. I do not fear for my heart. I am certain we are meant to be. You will see."

For him, her friend, she could at least try. Perhaps _naneth_ would prove to be correct...

"Very well, Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower, I, Gíl-wen, ex- Crowned Princess of the Noldor, accept your suit."

To say that the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower radiated pure joy would have been an understatement. Gíl-wen was positive that even the fiery creature he had slain had not shown as bright as he did in that moment of what she suspected to be unadulterated happiness for him. He was positively beaming, and, was he bouncing on his toes? It was rather endearing. He stretched out his hand to take hers.

" Shall we then dance in celebration, my lady?

"Lead on, dread Balrog Slayer… "

* * *

"They are dancing again, my lady."

"It will not last, Erestor."

"Yes, but for now, I believe Fin has won."

"Won what, librarian?" Arched eyebrows, attached to the fair face of the Lord of Imladris, appeared over Celebrian's shoulder. He had slipped in behind his beloved, wrapped an arm about her waist and nestled his chin close to the side of her face. He looked bemusedly down at Erestor as if daring his advisor to say something about the blatant display of affection towards his intended. Erestor, being truly a bachelor, was rather frightened of both _ellyth _and such romantic displays. Why, Elrond could not even begin to imagine. He was quite comfortable with such a beautiful lady in his arms.

"Elrond!" said Celebrian, slightly startled, before she settled into his warm embrace.

"_Meleth_..." he murmured into her hair.

"My lord!"

"You were saying, Erestor… "

"Glorfindel appears to have finally persuaded the Lady Gíl-wen to accept his suit," rejoined Erestor, trying to focus on the dancers, instead of his lord's affectionate behavior toward Celebrian.

Elrond's eyebrows arched even further. "Has he indeed? After an age… It is perhaps the hopelessness on her part of finding a suitable match. I do not think that the two are well-suited. They are more brother and sister, after a fashion."

"She is far from hopeless, Elrond; she is simply picky." Celebrian rose to defend her friend, though she knew that her suitor meant well. "And there are few elves left who feel worthy of her lineage, though she could care less if her love were a simple minstrel. Perhaps Glorfindel is the only one not threaten by her title. But we agree, the two seem ill-suited; perhaps they will prove us wrong."

"Perhaps, _meleth_, perhaps." And he kissed the top of his beloved's head. "Only time will tell." He turned again to his advisor. "By the way, librarian, you smell rather burnt... Care to explain?"

* * *

**BrownEyedGirl87: Thank you for the review… I will most likely add in some flash backs with Gil-galad in the future chapters. You inspired me! Glorfindel will get a girl :) but then that would be spoilers if I told you who. And yes, Erestor, he is my doll. Sorta like Galion, who you will meet in the next chapter hopefully. I put both these elves through way too much pain. But just wait till the Twins and Legolas join the fun! Oh so many plot bunnies. I am glad you enjoyed. Hopefully I will be updating on a regular basis since I am now on vacation. **


	3. Chapter 3: Meanwhile in the Greenwood

**Hello Readers,**

**For those of you who do not know, Galion is Thranduil's butler from the Hobbit. He is a very minor character so you may have forgotten him, but he is not mine. Though I do take liberties with his character. I have sort of made him Thranduil's best bud, even an Elven King needs a friends… and while Thranduil is very angsty in this chapter, I will not allow him to be all the time and I needed someone to snap him out of it :)**

_Then Bilbo heard the king's butler bidding the chief of the guards good-night. "Now come with me," he said, "and taste the new wine that has just come in. I shall be hard at work tonight clearing the cellars of the empty wood, so let us have a drink first to help the labour." "Very good," laughed the chief of the guards. "I'll taste with you, and see if it is fit for the king's table. There is a feast tonight and it would not do to send up poor stuff!"_

_Tolkien, J.R.R. (2012-02-15). The Hobbit (p. 177). Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Kindle Edition._

_A number of elves came laughing and talking into the cellars and singing snatches of song. They had left a merry feast in one of the halls and were bent on returning as soon as they could. "Where's old Galion, the butler?" said one. "I haven't seen him at the tables tonight. He ought to be here now to show us what is to be done."_

_Tolkien, J.R.R. (2012-02-15). The Hobbit (p. 181). Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Kindle Edition._

**Enjoy! And if you would like, please read and review! It is rather encouraging and helps me with plot bunnies and character development. Also, let me know if there is anything confusing or needs clarifying, I would only like to improve and this is my first fanfic!**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

_**Greenwood the Great T.A. 107 Winter**_

Thranduil swirled yet another glass of Dorwinion in his hand, as he looked over the merry sea of his feasting people. At least they were happy. This was the first Yule where the grief from the Last Alliance did not weigh heavily on the shoulders of his elves. They were a simple folk who cared more for the beauty of the trees and the peace of their own forest than for the politics and alliances of greater kingdoms. But here he was. The last Elven King in Middle Earth. Alone, in a forest of rather drunk wood elves who danced merrily around the flames of the Yule fire. He took another swallow of wine. His father had to go and stubbornly refuse to collaborate with Gil-galad, a decision which resulted in Thranduil having to wear the rather heavy berry crown and take up the oaken staff. Yes, it was _Ada_'s fault entirely that he was in this situation to begin with.

_"_Adar_, we must wait. We cannot charge ahead so recklessly."_

_"Thranduil, I refuse, refuse to let these Noldor up-starts think that we of the Greenwood cannot fight as well as they and are not of the same mettle as them! High elves, indeed. Our woodland people have every right to fight just as bravely as their snobbish kin, and they will do so. We do not need Gil-galad's blessing. Did you not train these warriors yourself,_ ion nin_?"_

_"Yes, _adar_, but they are not as disciplined as Gil-galad's troops and you know this…."_

_"They are strong and well-enough disciplined to hold their own amongst this orc rabble. We will lead an assault __on the morrow."_

The assault had cost them a King, and one-third of the Woodland army, and Thranduil had found himself before the High King of the Elves to save the rest of his people from sure slaughter.

_"We will submit to your leadership, my lord, but do not expect us to fight like Noldor."_

_"Are we not all elves, _penneth_?" Gil-galad was put out by the young King's distinction of Elven races. In his mind, it had been Oropher's pride in the Sylvan race that had blinded the Woodland King to the need to work together. He had thought Thranduil would understand the situation better, but glancing at the young elf before him, who carried himself with all the dignity and stubbornness of a ruler, perhaps Gil-galad was mistaken._

_"I am hardly a child, High King."_

_"Yes, true, you are now a king… and pride does not become you. You see where it led your father."_

_"My father did what he thought was right." Thranduil grew taller and more imposing with these words. He would defend his father publicly, even if inwardly he was cursing him for the same reason as the High King._

_"At the cost of so many lives…"_

Gil-galad was correct of course: Oropher had led a third of his elves to their deaths, but they had followed their king willingly and had fought and died bravely. Then Thranduil was left to pick up the pieces and, after Sauron's defeat, he led his diminished troops home to the Greenwood–brothers, fathers, cousins, dead and gone, and the elves of the Woodland Realm disheartened and grieving in their wake.

Thranduil's mother had surprisingly remained in Middle Earth after his father's death, unlike Gil-galad's own queen. Though she was but a shadow of her former self, she had piece by piece, day by day, year after year, helped her son to pick up the pieces of a broken kingdom. Now that the wood elves were once again merry, she had retreated into herself and began to distance herself from her son. Indeed, she had not joined in the revelry of the evening.

_"Are we not all elves?"_ Gil-galad had asked him.

True, but his people were simpler than their Noldor kin. From their experiences during the battle of the Last Alliance, the Sylvan elves had become wary of strangers and foreign alliances, even distrustful of the other elves that still lingered in Middle Earth in Imladris and Lórien.

And Thranduil did nothing to discourage such xenophobic attitudes.

True, Oropher had acted against the orders of Gil-galad, but Gil-galad had sent no reinforcements to help thwart the slaughter of his people and Thranduil had been forced to retreat. He snorted softly into his wine. Gil-galad had berated him for making distinctions between the elven races, when it was the High King himself who left his woodland brothers to die.

"Melancholy much, my king? Surely, not tonight of all nights?" During the king's despondent musings, his butler had silently come to stand by his side. The pale blonde ruler turned a haughty gaze towards the newcomer.

"Now you question your king's mood, Galion. I have no idea why I put up with you."

"Because someone needs to wash your socks, sire." Galion retorted flippantly.

"_Ai_, I should get a wife."

"Yes, you should. I can retire."

Thranduil chuckled softly at the comment. Galion had been by his side since he had been but a small elfling in Lindon. He had not even been a prince at that time, much less a king, yet Galion had saved him from a rather nasty archery mishap and since that time, he had served as Thranduil's friend, butler and common sense. He would never retire, even if the king did find himself a mate.

"And where would you go?"

Galion closed his eyes as if picturing his own little Valinor. "Somewhere where there are no haughty, moody Elven Kings with smelly socks…" He opened one eye to find Thranduil glaring at him, though there was a faint glint of amusement in his grey-blue eyes. "I would hardly know where to go, Thranduil, and you well know that." The butler said honestly opening both eyes as he glanced back out towards the dancers. "Perhaps your wife would let me do the cleaning up every other day."

"Perhaps. But I shall have to find one first." The king sobered once again, his twinkling eyes growing more somber. "I do believe _Naneth_ means to sail now and I will be alone, Galion." His mother had talked about leaving these shores for a while now, nothing much, just subtle hints here and there. "I can manage alone, Galion, but somehow the thought terrifies me-not having someone there to tell me when I am wrong, to keep me on the straight path, to temper my judgment so I do not end up like my father."

"You are not your father, my king. You should not worry so." Galion nodded towards the revelers, adding cheekily: "You should be out among the pretty maidens of your kingdom, if you hope to find a wife. You cannot change the past, sire. If you want to live in the present, then you must seize the moment."

Thranduil glared again at his friend and servant. "You are_ too_ cheerful, Galion."

Galion laughed merrily. "Because I am the servant and you are the king. If I _were_ king, I would not be the depressing bump-on-the-log you are currently."

Thranduil sighed. "I fear I am depressed because I am remembering the past, yet also because I am thinking of the future. I fear I will not find a suitable match among my people; these _ellyth_ are far too young and rather frivolous. I do not see any of them as a good candidate for a queen. A queen must not just know how to dance, Galion."

Despite Thranduil's persistent gloominess, Galion could not be hindered in his attempt to cheer his king. Tonight was Yule and he was determined to see his friend and master laugh.

"So, are we to pay your cousin a visit then, sire?" He asked bemusedly. While Thranduil was on decent terms with his cousin Celeborn, he was rather distant with Galadriel to say the least. "I hear his daughter is quite lovely."

"And currently courting the _peredhel_, Elrond." The Elven King shot down the suggestion and slightly shuddered at the thought of having the Lady of Light as a mother-in-law. "Gil-galad's herald… You remember him?"

"Yes, he was quite kind in his condolences of your father's death…"

"True, as sincere as one could be given the circumstances." Though Thranduil did not get along with many outside his own people, he harborored no grudge towards the Lord of Rivendell. Elrond had been understanding and kind in the wake of Oropher's passing and had even offered the young King his hospitality should he ever travel to Imladris. "Perhaps I will join mother when she travels west and accompany her to the Havens. And I will pay him a visit."

"Do you intend to try to steal the Lady Celebrian away from him, sire?"

Thranduil laughed whole heartedly for the first time that evening. "Nay, my friend, but I do intend to stir things up."


	4. Chapter 4: Awaiting the King

**Hello Readers,**

**Thanks for giving this story your time! Here is another chapter and we are back in Rivendell again. Just a note for those of you who may not be familiar with Gil-galad's ****ancestry, he is of the house of Finwë. So Finwë is like Gíl-wen great great grandfather. :)**

**Also as for the word play in this chapter, I do realize that the elves would be speaking Sindarin so the joke would most likely get lost in translation, but it works in English, so just stretch your imagination a little ;) I have this opinion that Glorfindel thinks he is rather humorous and likes to annoy the inhabitants of Imladris with his jokes.**

**Please let me know what you think! **

**Enjoy for now…another update hopefully tomorrow.**

**L'Chaim… ****Philosophie88**

* * *

**_Imladris, T.A. 108 Spring_**

"Oh bother."

"What ails you, cousin?" Asked Gíl-wen sweetly from the doorway of Elrond's study. It was the first week of spring and the fair valley of Rivendell was in full bloom. The breeze was the light and the day was warm; the princess had just returned from a rather enjoyable picnic with Glorfindel. Their courtship had progressed steadily since Yule, but still Gíl-wen had not given him her heart. She thought that her affection would grow for the captain of her cousin's warriors, yet, while little kisses were stolen here and there and words of affection murmured in their conversations, her feelings remained stagnant. However on this sunlit day, little could dampen her spirits; yet, her cousin's face was knit into a small frown, so she had decided that it would be only familial duty to cheer him up.

"It is a letter," replied Elrond, waving a piece of parchment in her direction. "A letter from the King of the Greenwood writing to tell me of his impending visit. When I had offered him the hospitality of Imladris should he ever be passing by, I had never thought he would accept the offer."

"Is he a bad sort of elf?" Gíl-wen asked slumping in a rather un-lady like manner onto a chaise across from the _peredhel's_ desk and absent-mindedly picking at the designs on her gown.

"Nay, not really, just rather stubborn and proud, though I do not know much of his character. I met him briefly to offer condolences for the death of his father, and then once again to escort him to your father's presence."

"Ahhhhh, he fought for _Adar._" Gíl-wen sobered slightly at the memory. "But you say he is a king now?"

"Yes, the King of the Greenwood. The Sylvan elves chose his father for their leader. He is now king in Oropher's stead."

"So why is he coming to Imladris? Politics? Alliances?"

"Actually, I do not know. He was not very specific in his letter." He handed the parchment to the_ elleth_, who accepted and read aloud:

_"Elrond,_

_I am journeying to Imladris and I shall arrive around April the 3rd._

_I am assuming that your offer still stands,_

_Thranduil_

_King of the Greenwood_."

"Does he even know what a letter is?" She asked amusedly.

"At least he is kind enough to warn us. But I should warn Erestor now, and preparations will have to be made to accommodate him, as I am sure he is not traveling alone. I know his father was rather judgemental of the Noldor and, though I know not if Thranduil has inherited this trait, I do not wish to give him cause for contempt."

Gíl-wen frowned. "I do not understand; are we not all elves? Why would he hold contempt for us?"

Sighing, Elrond took the letter back from his cousin and sat upon the edge of his desk. "Because sadly, during the time of the Last Alliance, some of the Noldor treated the Sylvan elves that had come with disdain. It did not help matters either when your father refused to send aid to their troops when Oropher attacked prematurely."

"Why would _Ada_ not help them?"

"The situation was hopeless, Gíl. He wanted the wood elves to retreat, which they did, but not before their king was killed. The last I saw of Thranduil he had just lost a father, a king, a third of his people, and from his viewpoint, Gil-galad had stood by and done nothing. He was not happy with, nor entirely respectful to, your father. He was grieving; yet, aside from that, he seemed like an honorable _ellon_.''

"Hmmmm, did he?" she replied unbelieving. "He sounds rather stuck up if you ask me," thinking of the short missive they had received.

"I fear that is merely his way. He is rather terse in his correspondence."

"Terse?! That, and demanding. He does not ask, merely assumes." Gíl-wen was rather put out by the Elven King's rather short announcement of his impending arrival. "Like I said before, stuck up."

"We shall see…" came her cousin's reply.

* * *

Imladris was a bustle of activity in the three weeks that followed, but in spite of all, Glorfindel still found time to court Gíl-wen. While she enjoyed the attention, she still had not given him her heart.

On a busy Thursday afternoon, he found Gíl-wen in her sitting room painstakingly embroidering a gown. Giving her a gentle kiss on the top of the head, he laid a bouquet of wildflowers on the table beside her and took the seat across from her.

"Enjoying yourself this fine afternoon, _meleth_? You should set your work aside and join me for a walk in the gardens."

She groaned in faint annoyance. "Not now, Fin... I have to finish this cursed gown, since Cel is not here to do it for me. Curse the woodland king!" She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Perhaps I should wear servant's attire to greet him."

"You would still look just as beautiful, _meleth_. Come, cease your sewing and let us go out into the sun to enjoy the afternoon."

"As tempting as that is Fin, I promised Elrond I would be there with him to receive the king. I promised, Fin, and I will give that _k__ing_ no edge to think badly of my cousin's house. I will have to be proper."

Glorfindel snorted. "Proper! You will not give him a taste of your humor?"

"If he even has a sense of humor, Fin. He cannot even write a decent letter. I question his mental ability. He may not even get my jokes and pranks." She said these words in a vexed tone, stabbed again at her embroidery and muttered under her breath: "especially not yours."

"What was that, _meleth_? Come now, I tell wonderful jokes," her intended protested. "Are you _sew_ into your work that you forgot how witty I am?" He said this last bit with a slight twinkle in his eye.

"I fail to see the humor here, Fin," she replied, eyebrows knit in confusion.

"_Sew_… So… it is a pun, _meleth_."

"So…"

"Yes, exactly."

"So." She said again, shrugging her shoulders slightly. Then her lips turned up in a small grin.

"Ah, you get it now!" said Glorfindel excitedly. "Now put your gown away and come with me and we can go tell Erestor of my marvelous new play on words!" He grabbed her sewing from her hands, and kissed her nose, then pulled her from her chair before she could protest.

"Fine, I will come with you, and when Thranduil wonders why Gil-galad's daughter is dressed like a serving wench, I will simply tell him that it is because the Great Glorfindel is a great distraction and does not care for such things as propriety."

"Well, you would be telling the truth for I am a distraction." He held up a finger as if counting. Then he slipped his arm about her waist and pulled her close. "And I definitely do not care for propriety." With that, he kissed her soundly on the lips, Erestor forgotten for the time being.

* * *

Erestor had finally gotten the last candelabra dusted, polished and shined in the Hall of Fire. Through out the Last Homely House, rooms had been aired and prepared for the Elven King and his retinue. And Erestor had overseen the undertaking of all such preparations. Finally, with the finishing touches to the Hall of Fire, he could take a well deserved rest.

"Quick, Fin, catch it! Don't let it get away. Fin! Hurry, he went that way."

A small bundle of fur went dashing through the hall, dragging an _elleth_'s gown behind it, which was getting caught in the standing candle sticks and simultaneously dragging them along with it. Dirty prints muddied Erestor's freshly waxed floor, as Glorfindel came sliding to a halt in the doorway, followed closely by a breathless Gíl-wen.

"Catch him, Erestor!" the _elleth_ exclaimed. "He's got my gown!"

Too stunned and heartbroken by the mess to move, Erestor simply remained glaring at the two elves, eyebrows arched in resemblance of his master's, and the poor bunny, having untangled itself from the clothing, had escaped into an adjacent room. Glorfindel, seeing the look on his friend's face and knowing his displeasure, pursued the creature in haste, jumping over the fallen articles, while exclaiming:

"I will catch him! Sorry, Res, got to go! Duty calls!"

This left Gíl-wen alone with a slightly angry Erestor.

"Oh, Erestor, I am sorry, if I had known he would have escaped, and caused such a mess, I would never have dressed Finwë up as an _elleth_!"

Erestor blinked twice and then spluttered: "Finwë?!"

"Ah yes," said Gíl-wen as if it were the most sensible and normal thing in the world to name one's pet rabbit after a High King of the Elves, and she began to pick up the things her pet had knocked over." He was looking down today and we thought that he could use some cheering up, so we decided to let him try on the dress I am to wear for Thranduil's reception. He liked it as much as I did." She picked up the gown in question and ran her hand over a rather large tear. "Oh dear, it is torn. I do believe I shall have to dress as a serving wench after all."

Erestor could only blanch at such a suggestion, and stared wide-eyed in horror at the princess. "No…" he whispered.

She looked up from her examination of the garment and returned his gaze, with twinkling mirth-filled eyes, and countered his soft spoken proclamation.

"Yes…."


	5. Chapter 5: A Much Looked-for Coming

**Hello Readers,**

**I am glad you are all enjoying the story thus far. As an antecedent to this chapter, I must explain that while this story revolves around book canon, I did steal the elk from the Hobbit movies. My sister and I have named him Bob the Moose, and we have a very special place in our hearts for the animal. I have no idea what possessed Peter Jackson to create such an animal, but it was a stroke of pure ****genius and it rather fits with Thranduil's ostentatious personality. **

**This chapter is dedicated to Peter Jackson and his imagination, for which I am ever grateful, even if I do not entirely agree with. *cough* Legolas/Tauriel/Kili *cough***

**Please read, ENJOY, and review if you wish. Answers to previous reviews at the bottom.**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

**_Imladris, T.A. 108 April 3_**

"What is that thing?" came a hushed whisper from the gathered elves.

"How does he even get on that?" mused another.

"How does he feed it, I want to know? And how much does it eat?"

Elrond sent a small glare to his advisors and his cousin who had gathered to greet the Elven King. Thankfully, Thranduil was just entering the gates to the valley and could not hear their comments, or at least Elrond hoped.

Said Elven King was seated on top of a magnificent woodland elk, Thranduil's long pale hair flowing free and a crown of springtime flowers perched regally on his head. He looked at his surroundings curiously and yet still maintained the air of majesty befitting a king. Elrond had to agree with the captain of his guard, however; how was Thranduil ever to get down from his eccentric mount?

As if in answer to his question, the elk had come to a halt where the Lord of Imladris stood waiting. Without so much as a pause, Thranduil swept his leg over his mount's flank and dismounted gracefully with little effort, landing on his feet with a small thud.

Elrond look surprised but said nothing and bowed slightly, hand over his heart in greeting.

"Welcome to Imladris, King Thranduil."

Thranduil returned the gesture as well as the greeting. "Many thanks, Elrond. And please, call me Thranduil, or at least Lord Thranduil if you must. These titles make me feel old."

Behind Elrond, Gíl-wen raised her eyebrows slightly and smiled. She thought the same of such titles. Perhaps the Elven King was not as pompous as she had suspected.

"Very well my lord, we are happy to have you here."

"And I to be here." While this exchange was taking place, a beautiful and yet sorrowful _elleth_ appeared at his side. "Ahhh _Naneth_… Lord Elrond, may I present my mother, Queen Faeltheliel of the Greenwood."

Elrond took her hand and kissed it gently. "Your majesty, welcome to Imladris."

Unlike her son, the queen mother did not correct Elrond regarding the use of her title. "My thanks, Lord Elrond." Her voice sounded hollow, bereft of any emotion, and her eyes betrayed a weariness that could not have been merely from her journey.

At this moment Gíl-wen chose to step forward, taking pity on the Elven Queen who reminded her so much of her own mother in her last days on Middle Earth.

"Can I show you to your chambers, my lady?" She ventured kindly.

Thranduil noted the _elleth_ who had offered her assistance to his mother. Her raven hair was pulled away from high cheek bones in a single simple braid that had been thrown carelessly over her shoulder. Her eyes were of a sea blue sort and full of compassion as she gazed upon the queen. She was dressed in a plain dress of green with an edge of silver filigree on the hem, but there was something about her, Thranduil could not quite place what, that betrayed something of a royal, or at least noble, lineage, and nothing of a servant, for her dress itself spoke of simpler rank than a lady. She could not be Celebrian; he was certain his cousin's daughter had fair hair not dark. Who was this mysterious, kind, and enchanting _elleth_, he wondered. But before he had a chance to introduce himself, as if introductions were necessary–and yet Thranduil felt pulled by fate to so–the lady had led the queen-mother aside and into the house. Apparently in that brief moment of hesitation when Thranduil was examining her, his mother had acquiesced to her proposal and the two had made their way into the last homely house. Elrond's voice brought him out of his musings:

"My cousin has shown your_ naneth_ to her rooms. Perhaps you should like to go to yours before dinner," the _peredhel_ lord glanced nervously at the creature behind the Elven King. "Though perhaps you would like to see to your mount first."

"Ah yes, that would be quite kind. I do not know if the stables would be quite conducive to Aglar, he is rather claustrophobic. Perhaps a small bit of open meadow for him to graze upon. If one of your household could show Galion to such a field, my butler can take care of his accommodations."

Elrond's eyebrows lifted in disbelief at the King's words, but he gestured to Erestor all the same to show the King's overgrown pet–apparently–to some small grassland in the valley. Erestor moved forward to do as he was bid, nervously eying the animal and wondering if such a gargantuan creature could create such a disturbance as Finwe the Rabbit was known to do. Galion, a blonde _ellon_, who stood by the King's mount petting the beast's nose, smiled politely, though a bit warily, at the approaching housekeeper.

"He is not too much trouble," he said apologetically. "He just takes up room."

Erestor nodded, albeit a bit disbelievingly, and the two elves left the courtyard leading the noble elk to greener pastures.

Thranduil watched them go and commented to his host: "A fine creature, do you not think so?"

Something of a snort came from Glorfindel that sounded a bit like "excessive", but Elrond's hasty reply of "Indeed, my lord," averted the King's attention from such rudeness. The _p__eredhel_ cast yet another glare in his captain's direction before the Sinda had time to turn around and thus a political crisis was prevented for the time being. "I can show you to your quarters my lord before dinner… " said Elrond, changing the topic from the elk–quite successfully as a matter of fact.

"Yes, thank you. I should like to change, it has been quite a long journey." It was only after the Lord of Imladris had drawn his attention back to the subject of housing, that Thranduil remembered an earlier comment of Elrond's and asked earnestly. "You named the_ elleth_ that led my mother into the halls as your cousin?"

"Ah yes, a distant cousin, but a cousin nonetheless." Elrond nodded in agreement aa he led the King through the corridors of his house to the guest rooms. Glorfindel followed a few steps behind. "She is the daughter of Gil-galad, Princess of the Noldor."

"Currently courting Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin… " A certain balrog slayer added in his mind possessively; he had noted Thranduil's appraisal of Gíl-wen earlier, and did not like the Sinda's interest nor his curiosity.

"Gil-galad had a daughter? I did not know. She did not travel with her mother then?"

"Yes, her name is Gíl-wen, and no, she did not travel with High-Queen Idhrengellil. She remained here as she felt that it was not her time to pass into Valinor."

"And she is currently courting Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin." This last bit Glorfindel had added in his mind again.

Or so he thought.

The Elven King turned to face the Balrog Slayer, who bumped into woodland monarch, as he had been looking down while walking, intent on the apparent interest Thranduil had in his beloved.

Furious and possessive eyes met curious ones that lit up under raised brows. The two _ellyn_ assessed one another.

"Lord Glorfindel, I presume?" asked the King amusedly.

"Yes," replied the lord tartly.

"Balrog Slayer?" Asked the first, sizing up his companion.

"Yes," replied the second, drawing himself up taller.

"Elven _King,_" replied Thranduil, not missing a beat, and he winked at the fuming_ ellon_, before turning back to a an exasperated Elrond, who wanted nothing more than to remove the two rather temperamental elves from each other presence. Elrond could deal with Glorfindel. It would be easy enough to put the captain of his warriors in place and remind him of the need to be conducive to positive inter-realm relations, in spite of the fact that the elven king showed interest in the golden lord's beloved. Thranduil on the other hand… the Elven King's voice brought him back to the harsh reality that he had much to learn of the Sindarin lord and his various moods, as well as his humor.

"Where are my rooms, _peredhel_?"

* * *

**BrownEyedGirl87:I mean to reply to your PM I am just super busy at the moment. I love the suggestion and am wondering if I can take some liberties with it. Will PM you later this evening :) And yes, Thranduil is going to stir things up… ****a lot! Poor Elrond. He does not know what he is in for. I have this version of Thranduil in my head that is rather comical and a jokester in spite of being a King. Legolas can't get it all from his mother. I am glad you like Galion and Erestor… they will have some bonding (in a friendship sort of way) moments in the near future.**

**HinaTea: I am glad you like the story. Gil-galad will be featured in some sweet and fluffy flashbacks in upcoming chapters. I hope you don't mind, but I really wanted to show his relationship with Gíl-wen…I hope you will like.**

**May East: Thank you for your review! As for Glorfindel and Gíl-wen's relationship, Thranduil is about to rock things up. I apologize if it shatters your expectations, but I can leave you with the reassurance that Glorfindel has a happy ending :) **


	6. Chapter 6: A Confrontation-Part One

**Hello Readers,**

**I am glad to see y'all are enjoying this. I am enjoying creating this story and seeing my plot bunnies come to life. To know that other people actually wish to read this and find it amusing heartens me greatly!**

**The next three chapters are a series of confrontations between different peoples. If you wish to see any pairings in particular, let me know. If I don't put them in this story, I may be able to do a one-shot for you.**

**This first pairing is rather fluffy. ****_It's so fluffy, I wanna die! :)_**

**Also, for those of you who have not read ****_The Silmarillion, _****Fëanor is the Noldor dude who started the whole business of the Silmarils and whatnot, that ended up in wars and kinslaying and a bunch of other depressing sad tales, which, in my mind, are the reason Oropher and thus Thranduil's dislike for Noldor elves. My version of Oropher really dislikes them, while Thrandy boy is only slightly annoyed at them, because he is his father's son after all, but I think that he would not like being called Fëanor at any rate and find it slightly insulting. Fëanor is also somewhat related to Gíl-wen, like a half-great uncle, cause all the High Noldor elves are related somehow it seems… :) (and we all know that Gíl-wen likes to give her pets names of her ancestors, ref. Finwë the rabbit!) Hopefully this little note will clear things up for those of you who are not familiar with this aspect of Tolkien's world.**

**I will let you get to the good stuff now… Oh and also, this includes a flashback with Gíl-wen as an elfling and she cannot say Eärendil or Elrond. She has twouble with hew "R"s, so she either says "W" or leaves them out entirely. Soooo yeah, they are not spelling mistakes, I assure you! ;)**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

Gíl-wen wandered the halls of Imladris rather aimlessly for one who had lived there for ages, carrying with her some towels that the visiting queen had no need of. Having shown Faeltheliel to her rooms, she was struck again with sadness remembering her own mother. The queen of the Greenwood had barely spoken save a few necessary courtesies, and Gíl-wen had left her looking out to the east in mournful silence. In her mind, Gíl-wen was rather put out that the Elven King had not followed his mother to see she was alright . She had expected him go after them and be certain of his mother's comfort and well-being. She had thought that perhaps she was being unfavorable but his absence spoke measures against his good nature and she mentally berated him for being lax in his duties as a son.

"Stupid, foolish king…" she muttered under her breath, not watching where she was going.

"What was that, my lady?" came an amused voice suddenly before her.

"Ah my king, I was only saying stupid foolish thing… you see _this_ thing, ummm this thing..." she pointed helplessly to the towels she had draped her over arm and picked one up as if inspecting it. "See, it is stupid and foolish… " she babbled on trying to save herself; while she personally had very fixed unflattering feelings about the Elven King, she certainly did not want to create any problems for Elrond.

"Is it indeed, my lady?" mused Thranduil. " Hmmmmm, it is merely a towel and has little capacity for stupidity or foolishness; however, certain elven kings feel certainly foolish while in the presence of such a gorgeous _elleth_." He took her towels from her and threw them haphazardly over his shoulder, then he took her hand and magnanimously kissed it. "Gíl-wen, is it not?"

And several things went through Gíl-wen's head simultaneously in that given moment:

There was the rather irritated notion that he was flirting with her while his mother faded from grief in the next room. Then there was also a passing thought on how wonderfully blue his eyes were. Not bright blue like the clear sky on a summer day, but a grey-blue like the forest sky before the first rains of spring-freshness and warmth in them, along with ages of the world. And oddly, she noticed her heart raise in anticipation when he kissed her hand. Glorfindel could never evoke these emotions in her... _Glorfindel!_

She hastily stole her hand away from his grasp.

"I am sorry, my lord, but I must you forgive me. I must be going."

"Must you? The name is Thranduil," said the king, not at all deterred by her embarrassment.

Returning to her senses and a bit put out by his forwardness, Gíl-wen, forgetting all politics and promises to Elrond to behave, quickly retorted:

"Oh really, here I thought you were Fëanor." The Elven King's eyes widen in horror at the assumption that he would have anything to do with the Noldo. Gíl-wen continued smugly, "well, _Thranduil_, I really must be going. As much as I would love to stay and chat, I have things to do, rooms to clean, towels to fold… "

Thranduil blinked twice as he had expected _all_ _ellyth_ to fall in love with his title and his charms, not to mention his dashing good looks, and here was one who was too busy to entertain him, but as quick as he blinked, so quickly too did he gathered his wits about him to blocked her impending escape.

"I think not, fair lady; you may dress like a servant, but you are hardly anything but a princess-stay and talk with me."

"Should you not be looking after your _naneth_?" She replied unwilling to give him the upper hand in the conversation.

Again, Thranduil surprised the _elleth._ He sobered a bit at this question and a small hint of sadness was betrayed in his grey-blue eyes.

"Ah, yes." Politely, he handed the towels back to a puzzled Gíl-wen. "Here are your stupid foolish towels. Could you possibly point me in the direction of my mother's chambers?"

Gíl-wen, rather mystified at his instant change in temper, stuttered, "Yes, of course my lord," and turned to walk back from whence she had come.

Thranduil followed and commented softly. "Thank you for showing her to her rooms earlier. I am sincerely sorry for your loss as well. And I hope that your own _naneth_ has found peace in Valinor, my princess."

Wherever did he hide that haughty elvish king who bluntly gave commands and rode a six foot tall majestic woodland elk? Gíl-wen wondered.

"And the name is Thranduil." This he said without the arrogant flirtatious tone of his preceding conversation.

"Of course, my– _Thranduil_, thank you for your condolences." She replied still confused at the change.

Thranduil laughed lightly at her response. "Your Thranduil? We only just met, _Gíl-wen nin_."

There. There he was again, haughty King, but Gíl-wen blushed slightly at this endearment, glad she was not facing him.

"It was a slip of the tongue, Thranduil."

"Mine was not, _gí__l nin_." (my star)

Gíl-wen stopped in her tracks. Thranduil glanced up at her curiously.

"My lady? I did not mean to trouble you… "

"No, no, you did not," she said silently reminiscing. "_Ada_ use to call me that…Mother would call me her _little_ star, but _Ada_,_ Ada_ never called me 'little'. I was always 'his star', simply '_gíl nin'._"

* * *

_"_Ada, Ada_! look, look what I made!" A small raven haired elfling ran to her father with a crude paper drawing of three bright yellow dots against a solid black background. One dot stood out amongst the others._

_"What is it_, gíl nin_?"_

_The elfling laughed. "Silly _Ada_, it's Eawendil in the night," as if it were the most obvious thing in the world._

_"Silly elfling," laughed Gil-galad warmly, as he tapped his daughter's nose. "It's said Eärendil, and I knew that of course. But there are three yellow stars, who are Eärendil's friends,_ gíl nin_?"_

_"Why, they awe you and me,_ Ada. _I am you staw and you awe mine." (I am your star and you are mine) And little Gíl-wen reached to hug her father about his knees._

_"Yes, _gíl nin. _You are mine," replied the High King, stooping to pick her up._

_"I will always be yous, won't I,_ Ada? _You will not leave me like, Eawindil left El-ond. He doesn't have an_ ada _any more, and that's why he makes those sewious faces." The little_ elleth _raised her eyebrows as high as she could and try to pull her best serious face with pouty lips._

_Gil-galad pulled his daughter to him and kissed her forehead. "Nay_, gíl nin,_ I shall not leave you like Eärendil."_

* * *

Gíl-wen fought back her tears. _Ada_ left, _Ada_ died, and there was no star shinning in the heavens as a reminder that he still watched over her.

"My lady, I am sorry if I brought back unpleasant memories." Thranduil's voice both was soft and gentle, respectful and warm.

Gíl-wen turned to smile at him. "No, Thranduil, it is alright." She laughed slightly. "I am not sure my suitor shall agree with your use of the term, but I rather liked the nick-name and I do not mind. It will remind me of our first meeting and your persistence to get me to drop your title."

Thranduil smiled genuinely. "Dratted things, titles, are they not? Like those horrid dress robes your cousin wears. Heavy, and concealing the true figure."

She giggled. (Since when did she giggle? Celebrian was the love-struck giggler besotted with Elrond.) "They are quite horrid, are they not? He looks ancient in them."

"Does he wear them all the time? I suspect they must be quite comfortable to never take off."

"I don't know. He says they evoke a certain majesty."

"Bah! I evoke majesty shirtless."

Gíl-wen tried to put the image from her head, though quite unsuccessfully. "I am sure you do, my Thranduil."

"Care to check?" he smiled cheekily at her.

"You _do_ know, the Balrog Slayer is courting me… " She replied in kind.

"Of course, so I hear. But I rather enjoy watching him squirm."

"So you are flirting with me, just to give him a hard time?"

"Of course. I could never be truly interested in Gil-galad's daughter, my father would come back and haunt me… "

She laughed, though she felt silently disappointed with the fact that he was being serious about not courting her-or so she thought.

"If I may ask, why did your father so thoroughly dislike mine?"

"You may indeed…" And so the son of Oropher proceeded to tell the daughter of Gil-galad of the root of their fathers' discord-the differences between the Noldor and the Sindar peoples that sprang from the kinslaying and Oropher's stubborness to forgive, and then he spoke of the Sylvan people and their simplicity and love for the Wood over politics. And the two, engrossed in such conversation, made their way together to the chambers of the queen mother.

By the end of their exchange, Gíl-wen had quite another opinion of the stupid, foolish king.

* * *

**BrownEyedGirl87: hahahahahahaha, so this is quite embarrassing but I have not seen the Avengers, so I don't know who Loki is. hehehehehehe… BUT never fear, you have now inspired me to add to my Marvel education. Thank you!**

**IKhandoZatman: He has. He has indeed. Sass is commencing.**

**VivianChaotica: Thank you so very much. I really owe it all to my private school education and those lovely nuns who made me painstakingly write pages and pages of essays. Funny how you never really lose good training. And also I owe a LOT to my little sis, who helps me edit this story. She is a greater author than I. Her prose is priceless. We are currently creating a series. I will let you know when she posts her work. They are quite delightful as well. I am glad you enjoy and thank you sincerely for the compliment.**

**Lady Silverfrost: Another chapter for you :) Hopefully I can post them daily until school starts again. Enjoy!**


	7. Chapter 7: A Confrontation-Part Two

**Hello Lovely Readers,**

**Because it is the New Year, I have a present for you… TWO chapters! **

**Ok, they are both a bit short, but I hope you enjoy anyway. This one is an interlude of sorts to the main story. I have a very soft spot in my heart for Erestor and Galion and they shall be periodically appearing in this tale to liven things up, along with their furry companions, Finwë and Aglar. :)**

**Enjoy this chapter and the next! Replies to lovely reviewers at the end of this one :)**

**Also, if you care to explore, I have added a one-shot. Not as lively as this tale, but it features Legolas :) and some rather cute OC's and some very familiar OC's (Gil-wen, Finwë, Aglar:)). Well, I will let you get to this story...**

**HAPPY NEW YEAR!**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

Erestor glared at the creature before him. Two little beady eyes gazed up at him defiantly, from over a half-eaten carrot.

"Stupid, foolish rabbit!" cried the angered elf. "Those vegetables were not for your consumption! Now the cook is mad at me, AT ME, Finwë, and I had nothing to do with it."

Finwë twitched his little rabbit nose then munched the carrot a bit, before turning around, hopping back in the direction of the kitchens. An exasperated Erestor bounded after him: "Oh NO, you don't!" He roared.

The rabbit, hearing the tone in Erestor's voice, dashed at the last minute down a corridor to the right of the kitchens to escape his livid pursuer. Erestor skidded to halt and changed his course as well to follow the nuisance of an animal.

"I am going to catch you and turn you into a stew. Then you can permanently have all the vegetables you want!"

Finwë fled in terror, knocking over a vase in the process, scampering to the freedom of the outdoors. Erestor jumped over the vase without bothering to pick it up, as he would have been wont to do if he were less furious at the animal for disrupting normal household patterns. While Erestor did not object usually to Gíl-wen's pet, it seemed that with the arrival of spring and the King of the Greenwood, the rabbit was constantly getting in his way–muddying already polished floors, knocking over priceless pieces of furniture, nibbling at random clothes and robes in the washing. Gíl-wen did nothing to admonish the creature's new-found excitable, bad attitude, but rather encourage it and would laughed at both the small mammal and the hapless librarian-housekeeper. Glorfindel and the princess, since the incident of the gown in the Hall of Fire, could be randomly seen throughout the day, letting the rabbit loose on an unsuspecting Erestor and his various projects. More often than not, the result of such an unleashing was chaos. Today, the fluffy pet had gotten into fresh vegetables which were to be prepared for the king's dinner. The frustrated cook had spent a good thirty minutes complaining to the head housekeeper, and Erestor had resolved to find the offending beast and put a stop to its marauding ways once and for all. The dark-haired elf followed the fleeing fluff-ball to the sunny open air, out into the flowery meadows of the valley.

"Ah-ha!" He cried, scooping the suddenly halted bunny up into his arms. "I got you!" He looked up from his bent over position to find himself face to face with the woodland elk.

The beast eyed him curiously, with a look eerily reminiscent of the Elven King's. "Not you too, you great brute," Erestor said, more than a little nettled. The moose snorted defiantly, and a blonde head appeared around his great shoulders.

"Something wrong?" asked a curious Galion.

Usually Erestor was a kind _ellon_ who understood the constraints of hospitality and the politics of obliging a visiting kingdom, but these foolish animals had tested the limits of his patience. Aglar, the king's rather over-sized mount, had taken to eating random flowers in carefully sculpted flower beds and drinking from some of the nicely constructed fountains throughout the gardens. He had had to be led out of the main gardens several times, and Erestor wonder if the woodland elves were capable of guarding anything at all, judging the number of times the brute had "escaped". "_'Let loose'_ is more like it…" Erestor thought to himself. Now, faced with the animal and the king's butler, not to mention the exasperating events of the preceding days, Erestor laid aside any politeness he would have assumed under usual circumstances.

"You keep your big brute there under control!" He jabbed a finger at the transgressing moose and tucked Finwë farther under his arm, as if to shield the rabbit from any further bad influences.

Galion, in a characteristic streak of his usual goading, sought to rile the already hysterical housekeeper. "He is not a brute! Such a gentle creature… " He retorted, petting the elk's velvet nose.

"Gentle?!" cried an incredulous Erestor. "He eats the garden flowers and creates nasty messes in the middle of the pathways that MY elves have to clean up!"

"Oh, does he?" Galion cocked his head to look at Erestor and his furry bundle. "How curious. He never does such things in the Greenwood. Must be this confounded valley." He turned to pet the elk again and spoke in a soft, comforting, rather exaggerated, voice. "I do not know what this silly elf is speaking about, Aglar; you are quite a good moose, are you not?"

"Good moose?!" Erestor spluttered. "Come, Finwë, we should not consort with such a creature. You are infinitely better than he."

And with his stupid, foolish rabbit tucked under one arm, he turned on his heel and headed towards the Last Homely House, head held high.

When he was out of sight, Galion's merry laughter filled the flowery meadow.

* * *

**gginsc: As I am writing this, I am feeling quite the same. Don't worry, Glorfindel will get a girl. In my mind though, I feel like he is too sweet for Gíl-wen. She needs someone who will challenge her rather outgoing character, and Glorfindel is more of a melt-at-her-every word type of guy. Thranduil is able to stun her with his wittiness and his hot abs :) and challenges her thinking, as we shall see in later chapters. I hope you aren't too disappointed. Perhaps I shall write a one-shot for you, where Gíl-wen and Glorfindel get together…hmmmmmmm…plot bunnies!**

**BrownEyedGirl87: It would have been scary if Glorfindel had been there to confront Thranduil. That shall happen. Hold your horses ;) give me a couple more chapters.**

**Lady Silverfrost: Well, I have until Jan 20th till I go back to school, so be prepared to be in heaven till then!**

**VivianChaotic: Thanks again for the kudos. I really like replying to reviews, as I am honored that people take the time to tell me what they think of my work.**

**FollowTheSun22: I am glad you like. Part of the reason I created this is because I was having the same problem. Most Thranduil/OC's are angst ones about Thranduil's wife dying! BLAGHHHHH! while some of them are very well written and included in my favorites, I wanted to create a light hearted story where she remains with him until they BOTH decide to sail to Valinor. Thranduil's wife doesn't need to have died to explain why he secludes himself in his realm or why he is so cold to the dwarves in the Hobbit… hehehehehe… nope, the dwarves took care of that in Doriath. :) Evil dwarves!… For your entertainment, and I am not sure if you already read it, but one of my favorite Thranduil/OC's that includes Glorfindel as well, is called ****_The House of the Golden Flower, _****by vericus. There is a link to it in my favorites :) I hope you find it enjoyable too.**

**IKhandoZatman: Thank you! I enjoyed writing it. Hope you enjoy these two similarly.**

**Optymistka: Hey! Glad you found my work. Hope you enjoy my version of Thranduil. **

**LadyThunderstorm: I know… They are my darlings. My inner fan girl starts to come out whenever I write their scenes; somehow she gets channelled through Gíl-wen.**


	8. Chapter 8: A Confrontation-Part Three

"He is just a friend, Glorfindel!" For the thousandth time, Gíl-wen endeavored to reassure her beloved that Thranduil's advances were nothing serious and merely the actions of one who enjoyed antagonizing others.

While she and the Elven King had certainly spent a few hours in each others company over the past few days, engaged in stimulating conversations during pleasant strolls through the halls of Imladris, for Gíl-wen had kindly offered to show him around, they had not progressed in their friendship beyond the already established endearments. To Gíl-wen's disappointment, there had been no moonlit strolls in the garden and the handsome elf kept his physical distance. There had not been another kiss on the hand that sparked a fire within her. There had merely been a strong friendship kindled between the Sindarin king and the Noldor princess.

"Have you not seen the way he looks at you when you are not looking, Gíl?" replied a rather jealous Glorfindel. He had noted the Thranduil assessing his intended's looks at the farewell feast the evening before and had not approved. _"Stupid, foolish me,"_ he thought to himself, _"I should have accompanied her into help the queen and not left her out of my sight this past week."_

"He is welcome to look," Gíl-wen answered. She was put out by his possessiveness, and secretly smug that the Elven King's eyes had wandered her direction at the feast. During a certain conversation of theirs on one of their walks, Thranduil had mentioned that he would not have fought over anything as silly as jewels, even if they bore the light of the Trees, unless perhaps that jewel were a perfectly polished emerald. He had a fondness for emeralds, he had said, perhaps it was because they reminded him of the greenleaves in the summer. Gíl-wen had laughed at that statement, but that evening had worn a pearl white gown bedecked with green and silver stitching and ornamented with tiny emeralds. She had also consciously donned her mithril and emerald necklace to compliment her outfit. She had noticed his gaze, but, not wanting to upset Glorfindel, ignored it. "Surely, you cannot be offended that others notice my beauty?"

Glorfindel was stumped by her retort. He wanted all to notice his love's beauty, and at the same time he wanted to keep her all to himself. He chose the wiser reply. "Nay, _meleth_." He said earnestly, crossing the room and taking her hands in his. "Your beauty should be shared with the world; and I suppose I should be proud that a King assessed the _elleth_ on MY arm."

"You should, my fierce balrog slayer. For I am yours, and not his, even though he is a king and you are but a mere captain." Gíl-wen strove to boost her beloved's ego.

She found herself caught between a flirtatious, handsome Elven King, to whom she was inexplicably drawn, and her current suitor, who treated her as if she were one of the Valar. Glorfindel was sweet and caring; but Thranduil– Thranduil was intellectually stimulating and intriguing, and from her observations of his interactions with his mother, quite a compassionate, loving elf. She did not seriously consider him a possible suitor, but she could dream. For now, she was content with Glorfindel's attentions and did not want to do anything to upset their courtship.

"A mere captain, _meleth nin_? You would settle for a mere captain?" His warm, gentle voice broke through her thoughts as he pulled her from her chair, wrapping his arms about her. She responded in kind, nestling into his embrace and he kissed the top of her raven head.

"Of course," she murmured. "Especially when he is so snuggly."

"Ah, you may snuggle in my arms whenever you want, _meleth_."

She cocked an eye at him. "It does not detracted from your hardened warrior image?" she asked impishly.

"No one need ever know…" he replied in all seriousness.

"You would not cuddle with me in front of your guards!?" came her skeptical, playful retort.

"I would cuddle with you in front of the whole world, _meleth_, especially a certain Elven King and his whole kingdom."

She laughed softly. "You are silly, Fin." Then, she melted back into his embrace.

"I find myself utterly giddy when in your presence, _hiril vuin_, (beloved lady)." And he bestowed another kiss atop her head.

For the next few minutes the couple stood in such a loving embrace until they broke apart to walk hand-in-hand down to the gardens that were lit with rays of the silver moon and the twinkling of the stars. They walked in amicable silence, happy to be in each other's company, after days of being kept apart by their duties to the visiting elves.

"_Stupid, foolish me_," thought Glorfindel again, as he walked the moonlit paths of Imladris with his beloved princess. "_I have completely given her my heart, and I know not what I shall do if she ever thinks to give hers to another. It is quite a good thing that Sinda has gone from this valley. I shall only pray he does not return this way._" He paused to tilt Gíl-wen's head towards his own and bestowed upon her a possessive kiss, which she returned eagerly.

She was his and he was hers. And all was right in his world.


	9. Chapter 9: Thoughts on the Road

**Hello Adoring Fans,**

**(Sorry, sometimes my inner Thranduil gets unleashed…:))**

**Here is a rather fluffy chapter with Thranduil goodness in it. **

**A shout out goes to _Optymistka_ and a rather wonderfully oneshot: _Thranduil needs rest_, in which he greets a party of men while sleeping. I urge you to check it out. It is quiet delightful and in my favorites :) Thank you, friend, for your wonderful imagination and sharing it with us.**

**Thank you all so much for your reviews and encouragement. I have several drabbles headed your way, as y'all have inspired me! PM me if you would like to see anything special or just leave it in a review.**

**I am one of those authors who will write regardless of reviews, with only one person following a story, because I write for my own amusement :) lol, but whenever I read your reviews, I feel warm and fuzzy inside and it makes me want to write y'all pages and pages of this stuff! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR KINDNESS and giving my work the time of day. This next chapter is for all you Thranduil fans.**

**Enjoy a rather uncharacteristic side of the Elven King...**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

The journey to the havens was rather uneventful. For the elves of the Greenwood, used to the denseness of their forest home, the region of Eriador was a wonder to behold. Vast open plains of gently rolling hills stretched to meet the low peaks of the Blue Mountains. The Sylvan elves who journeyed with their King gazed about in wonder as they travelled westward. None of the company had traveled this far west, save the King, the Queen Mother, and Galion. Thranduil himself was eager to see the lands through which he had once traveled in his younger days, though he found himself as of late caught up in thinking of his recent journey to Imladris, rather than reminiscing of the past. He had noticed Gil-galad's daughter from the moment of his arrival, and for some odd, inexplicable reason, he could not shake the thought of her. Few _ellyth_, let alone _ellyn_ for that matter, could rise to the occasion of challenging the Elven King. She did so; throughout their conversations during the duration of the stay, Gíl-wen constantly challenged the King on everything, allowing for rather heated discussions on topics ranging from history to pipe-weed. In the end, the two elves found that, although they argued heartily, they generally conceded to one another and found that they had similar viewpoints. Gil-wen was capable of holding her own against Thraudil and pushing buttons that normally would have caused him to lose his temper. She was akin to Galion in that regard.

"A penny for your thoughts, sire?" an amused voice came drifting up from beside him. Speaking of Galion…

Thranduil started. He had been so lost in his thoughts he had not noticed that his butler brought his mount up aside him and Aglar.

"_Rhaich!_" (Curses!) he swore. "My thoughts are my own, butler, and I pay you well enough to listen when I want. You need not ask for pennies." He grumbled moodily.

"It is but an expression, sire!" replied Galion cheerfully. "You look to be drifting off to sleep in aimless thought and I sought to save you before you ended up tangled in Aglar's antlers."

Thranduil thought he heard what suspiciously sounded like a snort of laughter covered quickly by a coughing fit from Maefaron who was the nearest to them. The king turned to level a stare at the captain of his guard, when he caught sight of a faint smile gracing his_ naneth_'s face. Instantly he turned the almost-glare into a wink and beaming smile and turned back to address Galion.

"Bah!" He said joking. "I would never do such a thing. I could entertain a whole party of foolish mortal embassaries and be sleeping–they would never suspect a thing. My reputation as a mysterious and haughty Elven King precedes me; I could sit through a whole proceeding with my eyes glazed in sleep and they would never know!"

"Until you fell head first from your throne… " added Galion, cheekily.

"That would never happen. I retain regalness while resting." Thranduil assured him.

"Unless I push you over… "

This time, Thranduil did not hold back his glare, and the queen mother laughed softly at the butler's impertinence.

* * *

That night when the party had stopped to rest and nourish themselves, Queen Faeltheliel spoke softly to her son while eating some wild berries and lembas.

"You did seem rather engrossed in your thoughts today,_ ion nin_," she said as he sat down beside her. "Do you care to share them with your mother?"

"Of course, _nana vuin_," (dear mommy) he kissed her cheek and laid his head on her shoulder as he had done often in his youth, and still did on the rare occasions his kingship allowed him such familial comfort. "I was thinking on the last time that we traveled this land, when_ Ada_ was with us. He came this way, that he might save us all from darkness and give us peace," Thranduil sighed, "but the darkness took him anyway."

"His death brought us peace, _ion nin_," said the queen ruefully. "I suppose that is why I did not fade at this passing. For all of his temper, he was quite a peaceful and loving elf. He prefered the peace of the forest to the politics of fine halls. It is a wonder he even accepted to lead the Sylvan peoples." She laughed softly. "I think they bribed him with wine, is what did it. But any rate, Oropher would have wanted us to continue on merrily in the peace his death had purchased, else to him, his sacrifice would have been in vain." His mother turned and placed a gentle hand on his face. "You are so much like him, you know?" She mused. "So proud, so strong, so stubborn, but gentle too, caring little for pomp and ceremony–though you use it well in your favor. My dear son, how proud your father would be if he could see you today."

Thranduil returned her loving gaze, with one of questioning seriousness. "Do you really think so? At times I feel so… inadequate. I only think that I have last this long because of your constant guidance. I shudder to think of what I shall become when you have departed, _Nana_. Kingship tires me and makes me grumpy! Or so Galion says."

"You will be fine, Thranduil." She smiled sympathetically at him. "You handle the burdens of the throne well, because you have the good sense to keep your humor amidst everything. And Galion, of course, obliges your amusement. All you have need of is a wife to aid his endeavors and bear you heirs, who will hopefully, what is that expression mortals use, ah yes, turn your hairs grey." She added the last part with a twinkle of mirth and challenge in her blue eyes.

Thranduil rose to the occasion. "_Nana_! Whatever did I do to you in my youth to merit such censure!" He sat up and looked at her with false incredulous horror, then he lay his head in her lap and gazed up at her, smiling deviously. "I am the best son, _Nana_!"

"You are my only son, Thran."

"I am the best son," he replied, ignoring her remark. "Handsome, witty, loving, smart, caring… my children will be blessed if they take after me." He listed the aforesaid descriptions on his fingers, counting matter-a-factly.

"You are also stubborn, haughty and a tad excessive, _ion nin_. Not to mention prone to injury and mischief in your youth." The queen responded playfully.

"Me?! stubborn, haughty, and a tad excessive!" cried Thranduil in kind. "Never!"

"A woodland elk, my son... Need I say more?"

"His name is Aglar, _Nana_," the king corrected pettishly, and he crossed his arms.

"I rest my case."

Thranduil looked up at his mother with a wounded look of innocence and then laughed together with her, relishing his time with her that would soon be drawing to a close. After their mirth had passed, he brought up the true matter on his mind, asking quietly:

"Do you think I will ever find it, _Nana_? Love, that is… like you and _Adar_ had. I am well past my majority and the ellyth of the Wood are so young and untainted by shadow; I fear that none of them shall truly understood the complexities of my character, nor deal with my volatile moods that at times get the best of me. I fear I shall have no children to inherit my good qualities."

"Oh, Thranduil!" She replied, gently stroking her son's fair head. "You will find someone, I do believe. It takes time to find one's soul mate and one should not rush these things. But what of that _elleth_ you met in Imladris? Gil-galad's own daughter, was she not?"

Thranduil's eyes closed in contentment at his mother's caresses.

"Hmmmmm, yes. What of her?"

"You found her pleasant, did you not?"

"Hmmmmmm, yes. What of it?"

"Perhaps the interest is mutual?"

"Hmmmmm, perhaps. Though she seemed quite content with her Balrog-slayer. Why she would want a mere Elven King instead, I cannot fathom."

"Perhaps you will journey back through Imladris to find out?"

"Hmmmmm, no. I had intended to visit Celeborn."

"Celeborn is already happily bonded to Galadriel."

Thranduil shot one eye open to see his mother gazing amusedly down at him. "You think I should try to win the Lady Gíl-wen's affection outright?" He opened both eyes incredulously. While he had flirted a good deal with the _elleth_ in question, he had never taken his advances seriously, nor had she, for that matter. But now, come to think of it...

"Something tells me that the lady's heart has not yet been taken. She never once spoke to me of her beloved while I was there, as _ellyth_ who have new-found affection are wont to do, but she did ask about you several times. I can assure you that I doubt her inquires were merely due to the fact that we had someone in common of whom to speak. And you do not attribute all the time she spent with you to the sole reason that she was her cousin's hostess, do you?"

"I did… " Thranduil sat up. "You think she truly is interested in me?"

"Perhaps." The queen responded mysteriously. "It would not hurt to press further. She is a lovely maiden and well-suited to be a queen."

"Hmmmmmmmm," said Thranduil pensively, and he laid back down again in his mother's lap. "Perhaps I _should_ return to Elrond's house… "

The Elven King lay with his head on his mother's lap until his eyes glazed over in sleep. It is said that elves do not sleep as humans do, but rather wander through the paths of waking dreams–Thranduil's dreams were that of a certain elf maid, and a rather epic battle between a great Elf King and mighty Elf Lord for her hand in marriage. In Thranduil's dream, the Elf King slew the Balrog Slayer and won the maiden.

* * *

**BrownEyedGirl87: I do not know why, but whenever I write about Erestor, I find myself antagonizing him with one of my other characters. He gets exasperated quite easily. Glad you enjoyed. Glorfindel is sweet, is he not? **

**Lady Silverfrost: SPOILERS! :) she marries Thranduil, shhhhh, don't tell ;)**

**HinaTea: Thank you! I love it too…It is awesome to see it come to life from my own day dreams and to see that other people enjoy it as well.**

**FollowTheSun22: I think the way I got around my own fears of touching Tolkien's work and writing ****fan fiction was that I write stories that could possibly have happened and do not change the original story. For example, Gil-galad probably did not have a family, but possibly could have and I felt safe creating an OC as his daughter as long as I kept him dead, and allowed for the fact that she wouldn't try to claim her father's throne or anything or start a new kingdom of elves…though that might be an interesting tale. Everything that happens in my stories will be according to canon as much as possible, there will be no extra child of Elrond or 10th walker or anything. Some people can pull it off, but I am still intimidated as you of messing with the Professor's work. I merely mess with his characters and the stories he didn't tell. I am glad you enjoy and hope you find your inner muse and write sometime: would love to read your work.**

**Optymistka: I want a pet moose! I love both Aglar and Finwe and the two animals will develop a close friendship in the future. I hope you do not mind that I used your idea slightly about the elves sleeping with their eyes open! I was writing the dialogue and just thought of it and thought it would be hysterical if Thranduil would vow he would never do such a thing, when in yours he does. Thank you for the inspiration. **

**May East: Ahhhhhh you have a bunny! how delightful! I had bunnies when I was a little girl, but I didn't really get to play with them. I think they are cute :) I am glad you like the story. Don't feel too sorry for Fin, I take pity on him in the future :) **

**LaraIsWrite: BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA… go away. Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe, I am glad you are coming to your mother-loving senses and liking Thranduil, finally! (JK) but seriously, I know, I know, I feel bad for Fin as well, and I am glad that you feel that way because I want my audience to realize that Gíl-wen and Glorfindel's romantic relationship is only really one sided. Gíl-wen tries hard to love him, but then a certain Elven King comes to town…**

**VivianChaotica: Thank you! :)**


	10. Chapter 10: Just a Pinecone

**Hi Everyone!**

**In my eagerness to give you more, here is another update. I will reply to reviews through PM's. ;) **

**This is a rather somber chapter for Gíl-wen. Poor girl is confused...**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

Since the night when Glorfindel had kissed Gíl-wen quite soundly in the moonlit garden shortly after Thranduil's departure, Gíl-wen found her staring at all sorts of gifts and flowers from her lover. It was as if he was trying to prove his love in every poem, jewel and blossom he bestowed. She did not mind; what _elleth_ would mind, really? To be given proof that one is loved is akin to breath. But even though one breathes daily, ones does not necessarily need quotidian proof of affection. Once, maybe two times a week, for sure, but daily?! Gíl-wen was beside herself in exasperation. She appreciated the Balrog Slayer's attention, she really did; however, with each new present, she felt a little more guilty, a little more dependant and a little more like he was somehow trying to buy her love.

How the conversation had come up, she did not know–perhaps during one of the talks on the Simarils and the bride price Thingol asked of Beren–but Thranduil had made it quite clear that the only token of affection one needed to give was one's honest word and deed and that would be enough for him. He told her of a family tradition of his: how that at Yule, since the time of Oropher's coronation, when his family received the wealth of a kingdom, the royal family would exchange homemade presents wrapped in crude paper wrappings. There were to be no elaborate gifts exchanged, nor several for the simple reason that they could afford it. Oropher's reasoning had been that greatest offering of all was the blessing of having one another near, followed closely by the mutual giving of work that had been created by one's own hands. A homemade gift was a gift of self, Thranduil had quoted the words of his father, and even when the elder king passed on, the queen and her son continued the tradition. Thranduil had then gone to explain that should he ever be fortunate enough to have children, he would allow them to marry for love's sake and care little for monetary purposes or foreign alliance. She then proceeded to ask him what he would do if one of his children should fall in love with a mortal, to which he replied confidently:

"Bah! Any child of mine would first befriend a dwarf before bonding to a mortal!" Thranduil had said that….

Thranduil.

The princess had thought about the Elven King since the day he had departed. Again he had found his way back into her thoughts like a familiar song that she had always known, but never knew the words too.

As she pulled the weeds from the bed of roses that grew in her special garden, she pondered why her thoughts returned again and again to the ostentatious guest who had questioned her every assertion, who made her heart flutter when he spoke, and who made her giggle like an elfling at his wit. She shoved her small spade furiously into the ground.

She should be thinking of Glorfindel!

Glorfindel and his slew of presents– trinkets she did not even really need. Thranduil had given her nothing but a small pinecone he had found on one of their walks through the small woods of the valley. It was perfectly shaped, a beautiful light brown with small scales like miniature flower petals. He had picked it up on their stroll and breathed in deeply its woodsy scent. He handed it to her and bid her do the same, describing as she did so the vast forest which was his home. He had spoken with such vividness, pride and imagery that she had imagined herself there and she had not given the small cone back. It graced her bedside table along with Glorfindel's daily dose of wildflowers.

Gíl-wen sighed as she gathered her gardening tools and bucket of weeds to return back indoors to tidy herself for supper.

Why, she wondered, why did she have to think about someone who had no reason to be in her mind, or heart, at all? She had only just met him, the Elven King, and here she was trying to recall his face, his cocky attitude, his deep grey-blue eyes.

She swung her pail back and forth wistfully. She needed to find Elrond. Perhaps he could prescribe a remedy for this strange, new obsession.

* * *

"Did you want an indoor garden to sleep in, cousin? You are more than welcome to sleep in the greenhouses," Elrond stated cheekily as he entered Gíl-wen's room and eyed all the vases of flowers therein.

Gíl-wen groaned. "Oh, do stop being such a smarty, Rondy; I did not ask you here to be sassed."

"Then do not use such a foul nickname as…" Elrond shuddered unable to utter her butchering of his name.

"What, Rondy?" She asked mischievously. "I think it suits you."

One black eyebrow raised in disbelief. "I think not, cousin."

Gíl-wen continued to water the pants she had been tending to and replied simply, "Ah, well, I shall just have to ask Celebrian when she returns and she will tell me the truth."

There had already been three kinslayings among the elvish peoples and, in that moment, Elrond meditated the fourth. So he tactfully changed the subject. Gesturing to the flowers, he inquired:

"These are all from Glorfindel, I presume?"

"Oh, yes!" cried his cousin, in an uncharacteristic huff. "They are!"

Elrond bestowed a pitying look towards the _elleth_ and crossed the room to a sea, motioning for her to join her. "Come, _penneth_, (little one) talk with me."

She moved moodily over to occupy the seat beside him and sighed softly as she sat. The _peredhrel_ placed a loving arm around her shoulder and pulled her close and for a few moments the two elven cousins enjoyed the familial comfort.

Elrond looked down when he heard a sniffle. Gíl-wen was crying.

Gíl-wen was crying?!

He titled her head gingerly towards him to better wipe the tears of her cheeks. "_Man prestad cin_? (What troubles you)?" He asked gently.

She gazed up at him sorrowfully. "_U-istin_…(I don't know)"

She was frustrated– mainly at herself that Glorfindel was so kind, so endearing and still her heart felt nothing, while she constantly thought of another _ellon_ whom she had only just met. Yet she could not truly phrase her thoughts coherently. She was at that stage where confusion has set in, and obscures right judgement for the matter.

"I suppose," she began by way of explanation, "I suppose I am upset because of all this…" she gestured helplessly around the room. "Glorfindel is so sweet and these are all presents from him, but what am I to do, Elrond? I did nothing to deserve them! I mean, I know he loves me, but does he need to shower me in presents?!"

An ever insightful Elrond listened to his cousin's brief rant, and delved deeper to help her find the true reason for her frustration. "It is not the presents, truly is it? There is something else at play here other than my captain's rather obvious attention to you. What is it?"

She looked up at him curiously. "Nothing passes your notice, does it?"

With another small sigh, Gíl-wen cast her gaze downward, picking at the edges of her sleeves and continued: "I suppose I am upset because I am thinking of another when I should be thinking of Glorfindel, and I cannot explain it. I SHOULD be grateful to Glorfindel for these things and fall hopelessly in love with him and bond with him and bear his elflings… but I just… can't. _Ai_! What is wrong with me, Rondy? Why do I think of another who is gone and likely not to return, and not of one who is ever present both in body and in the many gifts he showers?" She ceased her sleeve picking and turned to her cousin with a sorrowful look and yet another sigh.

Elrond reached out again to pull her close and kissed the top of her head that she then lay on his shoulder.

"First of all," he began, "You called me…" he could not bear to utter his butchered name, but instead shuddered. Gíl-wen snickered at his reaction. "As for the matter with Glorfindel, speak to him of the matter with the presents. Seriously speak. Let him know that you need not so many tokens of his affection. Perhaps if he desists his over-bearing courtship and gives you space to forget him for a time, you will forget him a little and thus remember him more."

Gíl-wen laughed softly through her sadness. "Perhaps…" She then shook away her melancholia and moved from her cousin's side, eying him with a twinkle of humor. "You speak in riddles, did you know that, Rondy?"

Playfully he rolled his eyes. "Will you cease and desist with that hideous nickname?! I give you wonderful straightforward advice and you call me thus? Ungrateful child!"

"Oh, Rondy, I think it suits you…."

"I think not… this family session is now over," he said testily, moving to exit the room.

"I am most certain _Ada_ would have loved it and addressed you thus in court…"

He turned a spiteful glare at her from over his shoulder.

"I hardly think so…"

She laughed merrily, her troubles forgotten for now, and crossed the room to embrace him in a hug. He moved to return it. " You know I am merely jesting, cousin?" she murmured into his shoulder.

He chuckled a little. "Of course,_ gur mel._ (dear heart)"

As they stood thus, he noticed over her shoulder a small pinecone on her bedside table. Curiosity got the better of him, and he asked: "Glorfindel has taken even to getting you pinecones, has he?'

Gíl-wen turned her head to view the object of which he spoke. Still unwilling to acknowledge her true feelings for the Elven King, she brushed the question aside as irrelevant. "Ah, no. It's just a pinecone that I found and liked. Nothing more."

Elrond nodded in silent agreement, while in his head he muttered: "_We shall see_… "


	11. Chapter 11: An Unexpected Guest

**Lovely readers,**

**This chapter is from Erestor's viewpoint a lot of the time :) I just had to… Though he is very clueless half the time ;) Btw on my profile I will post a link that explains Erestor's attitude towards a certain Elven King completely.**

**I hope you enjoy ****immensely. For all of those rooting for Gil-findel, I am in the process of writing a one shot to this story. DON'T DESPAIR, GLORFINDEL WILL NOT BE LONELY FOR LONG. :) I honestly wasn't even going to have him in my original thoughts of the story and then he just kinda made his little elf self into my plot bunnies, and voila, he is currently getting his heart broken. But even though he is mad, deep down inside he knows it wasn't going to work anyway.**

**And yeah, this seems a little fast for Gil-anduil, but remember they have had days to think over their "relationship", even though they are quite clueless still, and they seriously missed each other's company. But that will become apparent in the next chapter.**

**I have updated previous chapters to fix slight grammar/spelling/elven errors. If you guys catch anything, do not hesitate to let me know. I am not infallible, nor is Sindarin my first language, so feel free to correct me. Also, please note that hardly any of my elvish has the proper accents on it because I have not learned how to do that yet on my keyboard. ;(**

**Feel free to leave a review; I will comment at the end as I am not currently in a hurry. Thank you for your support! If you bother to leave a comment, I bother to reply because it means a lot that you did so.**

**Well, ENJOY the story from Erestor's confused POV!**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

**P.S. Like my new profile pic… it's from a shirt with Thrandy's face that says "The party don't start till I walk in" BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Galion would say: "like right" :)**

* * *

"Lord Elrond!" a breathless Erestor came running up the front steps of Imladris. "My lord… AIGGGGGHHHHHHH!"

There was a small high pitched squeal followed by a quick pattering of feet, a large THUD! and Erestor found himself staring at the high ceiling of the entrance way, seeing more than just the painted stars of Elbereth.

"CURSE YOU, FINWË! CURSE YOU!" and the poor elf began to sob, rubbing his head and sitting up.

"Exactly why are you cursing my great grandfather, Res?" came a sweet, innocent voice from around the corner. Gíl-wen appeared in his view, offering a helping hand to the collapsed elf.

He swatted her hand away. "Oh go away, Lady Gíl-wen! It is because of your accursed rabbit that I am in this mess altogether. That, and King Thranduil's atrocious moose…"

"But Res, if you spent quality time with Finwë, you two perhaps would get along better and he would know not to trip you… but what's this about Aglar? The king left a week ago and he is going through Lorien on his return."

"That's just it," replied Erestor standing up again, and this time rubbing his backside. "A guard at the border just returned and said they spotted a contingent of elves headed this way. It seems to be that the party is led by a giant elk. So I assume it is the king, though I too thought he was returning by way of Lórien. Blasted wood elves! I will have to prepare rooms, alert the kitchens, tell Elrond, find a suitable place for Aglar…"

Gíl-wen had stopped listening to Erestor when he said the word "king".

_Why on earth had Thranduil come back this way? He said he was going to Lothlórien. Did someone, somehow get injured?_ Her mind ran through several possibilities as Erestor listed off the things he had to do.

She was suddenly very aware of her appearance and wondered if her golden dress covered in blooming flowers was dry– it was currently hanging on the line. Thranduil had told her that it made her shine like the sun when he saw her in it, teasing her, of course, but he had added in all seriousness after they had both had a laugh that it was her beauty that made it shine brighter– the little flirt. _Wear it and surprise him_, said a small voice inside her head, and Gíl-wen turned to leave to fetch the gown, and re-braid her hair.

"My lady?"

"Ah, Erestor, did you need something?"

Erestor sighed deeply and shook his head. "You weren't listening, were you, my lady?"

"Sorry, Res, I was just thinking that if the king is coming, I should try to look the best for him, don't you think?"

Erestor looked at her with an expression of surprise and asked: "Who is this _elleth_ standing before me? Certainly not the same one who wore servant's clothes to the first greeting? What have you done with the Lady Gíl-wen? ."

"Really, Res, first you are horrified because I wear a servant's garb, and now you are horrified that I should like to change; whatever shall we do with you, librarian?" She patted him endearingly on the head, before striding in the direction of her chambers.

When Erestor had recovered enough from her rather unique gesture, he try to call out to her, but she had already rounded the corner. During his ramblings, he had asked her to help him organize the house for the king's arrival, which she normally attended to with great delight and would rather mop floors with the staff than do her hair. Here she was now completely caught up in her appearance like all the rest of the silly _ellyth_ that inhabited the valley. She had completely ignored his plight and then had not even given him time to re-state his plea for assistance.

Was this another one of her practical jokes? Perhaps he should go find Glorfindel; maybe he could reason with Gíl-wen.

But first, first he had to find Elrond…

* * *

"Glorfindel!"

"Ah Erestor, what is it my friend?" The captain of the Imladris guard was returning from a rather vigorous sparring session when the head housekeeper found him in one of the many passageways of the Last Homely House.

After having reported to Elrond, given out orders to the staff for rooms to be prepared, gone to the kitchen to insure that several extra servings had been added to the evening meal, spent an hour in the library rearranging a bookshelf Finwë had knocked over, and seeing to some problems that the _ellyth_ in charge of arranging the Great Hall were having, Erestor had set about to finding his golden-haired friend. What a stroke of luck he happened to find him ambling the hall that he had turned into.

"Well, see here," Erestor began. "The thing is: that blasted woodland king is arriving here in a matter of minutes most likely; yes, its only been about two and a half hours since he was sighted; so he should be here soon; I told Gíl-wen and asked her to help me…"

Glorfindel stopped listening to Erestor at the first mention of Thranduil._ How could this happen to him? He would have to contrive a way to keep his beloved princess away from that no good, excessive, rude, haughty, annoying, flirtatious, cad of a…_

"GLORFINDEL?!"

"Yes, Erestor… " _king, with bad hair and an ostentatious pet..._

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!"

"Yes, Erestor… " _If he even so much as sniffed in Gíl-wen's direction…._

"Oh, drat it all," cried Erestor hopelessly. "Not you too… No one ever listens to me these days…"

"hmmmm, yes, Erestor… "

* * *

Erestor had achieved the impossible. In only three hours, he had the whole household ready for the Elven King's arrival–and he did it with Finwë hopping about at his feet–seriously he should ask the cook for some good rabbit recipes–and without the aid of Lady Gil-wen, whose current affliction he still could not understand. At least she looked quite presentable and more like a princess than he had ever seen, he thought as he cast a glance in her direction.

Gíl-wen stood next to her cousin, arrayed in a silk gown of bright yellow. It was embroidered with large summer flowers and gathered underneath the bust with a wide belt of delicate golden lace. Her long hair was not bound as she usually wore it, but casually drawn back in twists that interwove with a gold and mithril circlet. She had intricately placed small rose buds throughout her tresses, and looked every inch the elven princess she was.

_How odd, _Erestor thought; he had never gotten a straight answer from Glorfindel as to why she cared so much about her appearance suddenly. Perhaps King Thranduil had uttered an unkind remark and she felt self conscious, not wishing to repeat the incident, though knowing Gíl-wen, she would most likely give the Sindarin king his due with her own smug retort. _How very odd._

As the housekeeper pondered these things, the Elven King and his escort approached. Erestor thought he saw Galion cast a mischievous glance in his direction, but he blatantly ignored the woodland butler in honor of civil politics.

Elrond stepped forward to greet the King, followed closely by Princess Gíl-wen. After exchanging pleasantries with the_ peredhrel_, Thranduil stepped forward to greet the daughter of Gil-galad.

"_Gíl nin_, (my star)" he said rather endearingly and kissed her hand.

"Your majesty," she replied graciously.

Erestor could not contain his surprise and gaped openly at the scene before him.

Lady Gíl-wen, the same _elleth_ who put a frog in his tea when she was an elfling and whose dratted rabbit ran rampant in the halls of Elrond's house, with little rebuke from its mistress, was engaged in quite a charming interlude with the Elven King. She was blushing and simpering like any other common elf maid, quite delighted in the king's attention. They moved, arm and arm to the house, talking of this and that, like ancient lovers reunited after centuries of separation, and Erestor wondered for the third time that day if Gíl-wen was not somehow planning a practical joke for the evening.

He spared a glance at Glorfindel, who, as captain of the warriors, had to remain at his post of honor. His friend's fists were clenched tight and, though he tried hard to conceal it, his face spoke of pure rage. It was rather horrible joke to play on her beloved, Erestor thought, though she played the part quite well. Erestor sent up a prayer to any Valar listening that Glorfindel would see some humor in it and an international incident could be avoid. If he could have heard the Balrog Slayer's own thoughts at that moment, he would have discovered that another prayer had been sent up asking for the strength to avoid said incident while silently disposing of a certain Sindarin elf.

* * *

**BrownEyedGirl87: I am glad to see that the story evokes the same emotions in you as it does my characters…Don't worry though Gíl-wen won't be confused for too much longer.**

**Optymistka: You too :) Thanks, though, for keeping me on my toes.**

**IKhandoZatman: Gíl-wen likes to give nick-names :) I have still to think of one for Thranduil, that will make him glare… hmmmm...**

**LittleNK: Hey hope you are enjoying the story :)**

**HinaTea: So they meet in this chapter but the next chapter is truly for you ;)**

**Lady Silverfrost: I know he is lonely… but I PROMISE… not for long. I was inspired by your pity, however to write a one shot which I will try to finish tomorrow, so look out for it. It will be entitled _Glorfindel Gets the Girl ;)_**


	12. Chapter 12: A Rather Egregious Evening

**Hello Readers!  
The next two chapters are sort of somber… sorry… I tried to put some humor in them, but everyone at this point in the story, is confused, insane and exasperated. Except perhaps Elrond who is slightly humored, and Galion, of course, who is laughing his head off as usual.**

**This next chapter is from his POV, mostly ;)**

**Enjoy. **

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

To say that the dinner that night was a rather sober affair would be quite an untruth, Galion concluded to himself as he sat on the boughs of an elm tree in the meadows of Imladris, watching over a sleeping Aglar. He found himself replaying that evening's proceedings in the Hall of Fire.

Gíl-wen had arrived in all her lady-like splendor on the arm of a rather beaming Elven King. Galion agreed that he had never seen Thranduil smile as such while in a public setting, let alone another realm–he was positively beside himself with joy.

But it was rather short lived, much to the butler's rather amused chagrin.

The golden-haired Balrog Slayer, upon noticing the entrance of the king and princess, had immediately crossed the hall, intent on freeing his beloved from Thranduil's arm.

Apparently he arrived to the "rescue" at quite a hysterical stage in the conversation, as Gíl-wen was animatedly describing an incident, with very vivid facial expressions and wide motions, and the king was laughing uproariously. Gíl-wen swept her hand in a gesture of magnanimous pompousness with a look of haughtiness upon her face, which resulted in her swatting the approaching Glorfindel on the arm. Thranduil laughed harder at such an occurrence, while Glorfindel spared a special glare for the Elven King and smiled tensely at the princess.

Gíl-wen smiled apologetically back at the Noldor lord, and placed a calming hand on his cheek as if to reassure him that everything would be alright, while Thranduil greeted the captain of the Elrond's guard.

Galion could not hear what was being said during the exchange, but the princess' immediate glare in the king's direction indicated that his salutation had not been considerate.

Before she could move to segregate the opposing _ellyn_, Thranduil and Glorfindel were locked in a face-to-face staredown, while quietly exchanging insults. Galion chuckled to himself to see the much-anticipated face-off...

Gíl-wen had a pained expression on her face, trying to get a word in edgewise, while both gentle-elves purposefully ignored the maiden.

Then it happened...

"MY FATHER WAS NOT A GOOD FOR NOTHING KING, YOU POMPOUS NOLDO!"

Galion shook his head helplessly as he moved to cross the room to restrain his king and friend if need arose. You could throw a slew of insults at Thranduil any day and he would not rise to defend himself, but insult his father and your life was basically forfeit. Glorfindel foolishly stood his ground.

"He cared little for the opinions of others and led your people to their deaths; do not tell me those were the actions of a good king… "

Gíl-wen, at this point, had stepped back to observe the king's defense of his father's actions.

"His people backed him up on his decision to attack; and they did not die in vain. They greatly reduced the numbers of the first assault." Thranduil spit out bitterly.

"They still died, because of the decision of your thoughtless, uncaring father, who obviously disregarded the feelings of others. A trait he did not fail to pass on to you."

Thranduil's eyes flashed angrily as his fists clenched in anticipation. Galion had reached his side at this point, and, leveling an evil glare at Glorfindel, attempted to place a hand upon his monarch's arm, which was abruptly shrugged away.

"I care more for the feelings of others than you can even imagine, Balrog Slayer, and so did my father. You are just jealous because you cannot even begin to compete with our attentions." This was quite true of Glorfindel, of course, but his jealousy and possessiveness got the better of him and he replied tartly.

"Lady Gíl-wen is courting me. She is not yours to consort with."

Then the lady in question joined the fray. "You are BOTH being uncivil and foolish." She admonished. "I am no one's possession, and you," she added furiously to her lover, "you are cruel indeed to use Thran's father to provoke him so!"

Galion noticed that his king look secretly smug at the defense but quickly glared back at Glorfindel.

The Balrog Slayer, hurting as he was by his love's obvious attraction to the Elven King, responded negatively to her intervention.

"Oh, and you call him 'Thran' now, do you? Really, Gíl, how long have you known him? Secret walks in the moonlight don't count... and he is the son of the upstart who refused to follow your father. Gil-galad would be ashamed!" A resounding SLAP was heard throughout the hall as Gíl-wen brought her hand up to instill some sense into the insane captain.

Before anyone could respond, an hysterical Erestor came running into the room chasing a rather frantic Finwë.

"SOMEONE STOP THAT CONFOUNDED RABBIT!"

The bunny saw a way out and hopped up onto a chair and then onto the long table covered in the feast of the evening, scampering through the festive dishes, evading the grasps of the elves within reach and upturning pots and platters in the meantime.

Galion tried unsuccessfully to suppress his laughter as he watched the scene unfold.

Gíl-wen had moved to remove her rabbit from the mess he created, the _ellyn's_ quarrel forgotten for the moment. "What on earth are you up to, Finwë?" she questioned playfully, brushing the bits of food from his fur. She turned to meet an enraged Erestor.

"That rabbit," the housekeeper fumed, "that rabbit has just swallowed one of Lord Elrond's priceless gems! I am sure of it! I found him among Elrond's upturned dressers, and this belt," he thrust said belt forward. "on which he had been chewing, is missing a jewel. I move for immediate dissection of the...creature... to reclaim it!"

Galion watched an amused Elrond move forward to intervene at this point. _Funny_, thought the woodland butler, _how he had not made to do so during his captain's confrontation of the Elven King. Perhaps it was because this was an encounter that needed to occur._ The Lord of Imladris took the belt from Erestor and examined it shortly.

"Do not worry, librarian," he chuckled softly. "Finwë could not have eaten the jewel. It was already lost." He then turned to the two _ellyn_ who had seemed to calm during the boisterous interlude. "Gentlemen, perhaps we should retire to the table and eat what this mischievous rabbit has left for our consumption." And he led the way to the table, Gíl-wen taking his arm to follow, while consoling her frightened pet in one arm.

The King and the Slayer glared at each other one last time and joined the rest for supper, while Galion lifted his eyes to the Valar in thanksgiving that a larger crisis had been prevented.

* * *

"I know you are there, Gal; come join me."

Thranduil's voice floated up through the branches and Galion swiftly jumped down from his perch. He landed gracefully on his feet to see Elven King lying on his back gazing up at the stars, his head gently resting on Aglar's great side.

"_Suilad_, (hello) sire," Galion cheerfully greeted. "How was the rest of your evening?"

Thranduil squeezed his eyes tight and grimaced. "Not at all delightful. The Lady Gíl-wen would avoided my company for the remainder of the evening and excused herself early from the feast. She even refused the company of that... Noldor pig of a Balrog Slayer... and left me to discuss dry politics with the _peredhel._"

"How delightful!" said Galion gleefully, to which retort Thranduil leveled a glare at him. But then the butler sobered and sat beside his king on the grass. "Are you still going to press your suit, sire, in spite of all?"

Thranduil gazed curiously up at the stars and answered him: "In light of what has occurred, I think not. While there is undoubtedly a friendship between us, and while I do honestly love to rile the Noldor captain, he is a good _ellon_ nevertheless. He truly loves her: it is my mere presence that has caused such jealousy. I think had our positions been reversed, I would act in a similar fashion. I was thinking of pursuing Gil, but given what happened, I think I should leave well alone. No doubt the two of them are making up currently... _Rhaich_," Thranduil swore softly. "I came too late. I suppose I shall have to eagerly start courting the Sylvan maidens when we return."

Galion frowned slightly. He liked the Lady Gíl-wen and the chemistry between her and his friend. She would make a lovely queen, and an even lovelier wife and mother.

She tempered Thranduil in a way that Faelethiel had, and she was prepared by her position as a princess to shoulder the burdens of queenship.

"Giving up so easily, sire?" he questioned, striving to change his king's mind. "This is uncharacteristic of you."

Thranduil laughed softly at the comment. "This is the first time I have even tried to court a lady, Gal, obviously I have chosen poorly."

"You have merely chosen one who has another contending for her affections, Thran. You are the Elven King! Surely, you can win her heart over a mere captain."

Thranduil regarded his friend seriously. "But that is precisely it, Gal, I do not wish to win her heart because of the merits of my title… " He huffed in frustration. "Not that it would be any different with any of the Greenwood maidens. I think I shall just be a bachelor for eternity." He patted Aglar's hide gently. "Aglar and I forever... two lonesome creatures and a lonely throne… "

"You have me, sire," responded Galion sweetly.

"Don't remind me… "

The butler chuckled merrily. "Well, if you do not intend to fight for the maiden, and if you are so averse to my company, then you shall have to content yourself with Aglar's. Perhaps if things get quite desperate, you can have_ elk-lings_."

Thranduil looked at his companion as if he had lost his mind, then resumed his quiet observation of the stars. Galion did not press his king into further conversation and each was left to their own thoughts.

Thranduil thought of a certain elf maid and the current predicament in which he found himself. He wanted to court the lady, he really did. He had greatly anticipated his return to Imladris and enjoyed a lively afternoon with her in animated discussions, yet he found himself now wanting to bow quietly from the scene. She had never quite acknowledged his advances–one could not count playful flirting–and she was still in a relationship with the Balrog Slayer. Glorfindel obviously loved her and he could offer her a quiet life without the added duties and worries of a kingdom. Thranduil could not do so. To become his wife meant becoming a queen and with such a title came great responsibility. Not to mention, Thranduil was unsure of whether he truly love her. He was intrigued, for sure, but love–did he really feel so strongly for someone he had just met? She was novel and excited him, but, given time, perhaps that fire would die. He would return to the Greenwood on the morrow and give himself time to sort out his feelings. If they were true, then he would return and try actively to win her heart. But, if they were not, then he would choose a silly Sylvan _elleth–_those were not found wanting. Perhaps he could still journey to Lórien as he intended, since there was nothing else to be done here.

And with those thoughts, sleep found the Elven King.


	13. Chapter 13: Give Me More Time

Gíl-wen retired early to her chambers to see Finwë put into his little rabbit bed and to think over on her own the events of the evening. She sighed as she thought about the hostility between the two ellyn and wondered how to put an end to it.

Glorfindel was clearly jealous of the amount of time she had spent with the Elven King, so much so that he risked publicly antagonizing him. She had not truly realized this until now. She shook her head as she continued down the hall and into her room.

However possessive he was of her, Glorfindel still did not have the right to criticize the actions of an already dead king and bring up rather sad memories for Thranduil. She certainly would not react kindly to someone accusing her dead father of being unfit to rule! And then for her lover to assume that she had entertained romance with the king while still being true to him–moonlit strolls in the garden, indeed! She only ever went on those with Fin! He knew that!

"_Pe-chennas_, (Idiot)" she murmured under her breath, placing Finwë in his bed and crossing the room to sit in front of the mirror. She began removing the pins from her hair rather violently.

Fin had lost his mind, that much was certain! And she did not know if she could forgive him! She had told him in the beginning that he was likely to get his heart broken, that her affections for him did not run as deep as his did for her. Time and closeness had not changed that. It was not the Elven King's fault that she could not return Glorfindel's affection. It was no one's fault really. There simply was not that spark there, only mere contentedness. But contentedness was not love, and both Glorfindel and herself deserved true love.

A soft knock at her door brought her out of her thoughts.

"Enter," she called.

A rather sheepish Glorfindel entered the room hesitantly. She glared at him, but bid him approach none the less.

"I am sorry, _meleth,_" He began wringing his hands together nervously.

Before he could continue, she responded: "Save it, Fin! What were you thinking? I know you do not like the Elven King because of his interest in me, but really, Fin, you used his father against him. How do you think you would feel if someone used Ecthelion against you?" She put on a slightly sarcastic tone… "Your dead best friend died a hero, but really, what was he thinking taking on foes three times his size! He was certainly foolish–and you inherited his stupidity."

Glorfindel saddened both at the mention of his fallen friend and the realization that he had lashed out at the Elven King without considering the king's feelings.

"Oropher died a hero in his son's eyes and he did what he thought best. How could you criticize him, simply because you do not approve that his son has taken an interest in me."

"I am sorry, Gíl-wen," he began again.

"It is not to me that you should be apologizing, Fin," she interrupted.

"But it is, _meleth nin_," he said despondently. "I lashed out at you, when I should not have. I should trust your love enough to let you have friends aside from me, and I did not. Can you forgive me?" he looked at her earnestly, pleading her for a second chance.

She felt sorry for his unrequited love that had caused him to act thus. She knew that he was right not to trust her. Foolish love! Foolish heart, why did it not follow her head, which told her to bond with the Balrog Slayer and love him back endlessly? Instead it already pined after one she had only just met and who was more than likely ready to leave Imladris and never return thanks to Fin's unwitting insults.

"I do forgive you, Fin, I always will, but it is not my forgiveness you need to ask for." She sighed softly, but did not move from her seat. The two remained awkwardly apart. "Glorfindel, in all seriousness, I think that we should cease this… " she gestured between the two of them. "Or at least give me time, alone, to consider things."

"Will you court Thranduil?" He asked immediately, and then cursed himself silently for his foolishness.

"Fin," she said testily. "Fin, I need time by myself. Alone. Just me. Without another vieing for my affections. You and I have been so close over these past few weeks, I fear the closeness has made us grow apart. Our life is monotonous and predictable, and it wears on me. Thranduil is exciting, but he is new and I doubt the depth of my affection for him; indeed, I feel it is only the passing fancies of a flighty _elleth_. I need time, Glorfindel, to sort out where my affections truly lie." She looked imploringly up at him. "Can you give me that?"

He nodded silently.

She moved to embrace him as a friend, and murmured into his shoulder. "I think I shall ask Elrond for an escort to go to Lórien. It will be easier for both of us to keep our distance if I am in another realm, and Thran shall be going home, so you need not worry that he will be trying to steal me away from you."

Glorfindel relished the closeness she allowed after such foolish actions on his part and kissed her forehead tenderly. He did not like the idea that she had provisionally put an end to their relationship, but he needed to accept it if he was ever to win her heart in the long run.

At least she had elected to go to Lórien, where she would be far away from the attentions of the Elven King.

* * *

**May East: Blessings to you for reviewing! I hope you do not cry too much now… Poor Glorfindel is seriously having a rough time. Be on a look out for my oneshot with him… Still working on it! Glad you like all the animals :)**

**BrownEyedGirl87: I think she already broke his heart by accepting Thranduil's attention… It was sort of inevitable. She is going to Lorien to put distance between them like Elrond suggested… we will see what happens...**

**Optymistka: TWO CHAPTERS, just for you;) I think I will call him ANDY when she wants to annoy him. *Puts in bag to save for rainy day***

**ggsinc: Kinslaying avoided. Love makes fools of us all.**

**LittleNK: I know, I torture him mercilessly… I will give him a break, I promise.**

**VivianChaotica: Thank you!**

** .ravenclaw: Wow. Thanks for the compliment. Gíl-wen needs sass to survive, that is why she fits better with Thrandy. Fin is just a little too sweet, but I do have something, or rather someone up my sleeve for him :)**

**FollowTheSun22: I am glad you liked the Elrond-Gílwen seen; my sister's request ;) And you are more than welcome to use ****_gur mel…_**** I do not own the Sindarin language, though I wish I did.**


	14. Chapter 14: The Valar's Sign

**Hello Readers,**

**So I was going to upload three chapters….BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, no seriously, I was, but then I was in the car and my computer died…. soooooo instead of waiting to post three, I will just post this one now and post the other two tomorrow. (Sorry, Optymistka!)**

**Well… now they are in Lothlórien… and HALDIR MAKES AN APPEARANCE. FYI, I don't mention it in this chapter but this is when Amroth is still King of Lorien so yeah...**

**Anyways, amazing readers, ENJOY!**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

Thranduil left Imladris the following day early in the morning without a word to his host or anyone else for that matter. Glorfindel felt slightly remorseful that he had been unable to repair any damage he might have cause inter-realm politics due to his angered possessiveness– just slightly. Gíl-wen was his love; he had tried for ages to court her and now that he had finally gotten her approval, he would let no _ellon_ stand his way, even if he be an elven king.

Lord Elrond had not reproved him too badly for his conduct that evening, though he had asked him to write a note of apology which could be sent with the monthly messengers to the Greenwood.

True to her word, his beloved had gone to her cousin that morning and asked for an escort to Lothlórien. There she could gain some time to think over her love life and also convince Celebrian to come back to Imladris again for a visit. Rather surprisingly Elrond decided to accompany her; for though Elrond really did yearn for Celebrian presence, he was restrained by the duties to his own household from visiting her. The Lord of Imladris bade his cousin to postpone her departure for a week. This would allow him time to make the necessary preparations to travel with her and thus see his beloved.

Glorfindel and Erestor had been summoned and given charge of the household–though Erestor only agreed on the condition that Finwë accompany the party bound to the Golden Wood.

So it was that a week later Lord Elrond, Lady Gíl-wen, the Bunny Finwë, and a small contingent of Imladris elves set out for the land of their kin. Glorfindel had said his goodbyes to his beloved in private and now he watched her ride out of the gates with the hopeful feeling that she would return to profess her love and finally bond with him.

_"I shall only be gone a month, Fin," Gíl-wen told him as she finished the last of her packing. He was lying carelessly on his side on her bed watching her, armed propping up his head, trying to soak in enough of her beauty to last him in the interim._

_"I know, but I shall miss you."_

_"That is precisely the point, my dear Balrog Slayer, and I shall miss you too."_

_Glorfindel reached out to her. Now sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her small hands in his and gazed up at her lovingly._

_"I would hope so. And I hope even more that you shall return to me with deepened affection."_

_She placed his hands on his shoulders as he placed his about her waist._

_"I would wish that as well, Fin," and she bent her head down to kiss him._

She had given him hope before departing that all would be well, and, with the Elven King out of the way, Glorfindel did not doubt that she would come to realize her love for him in the glades of the _mellyrn_ trees.

* * *

**_Lothlórien, T.A. 108 Late Spring_**

The party of travelers arrived in Lothlórien within a few days and were greeted at the borders by the Marchwarden.

"Welcome to Lothlórien, my lord and lady," said Haldir kindly to the _peredhel_ and the princess. "This seems to be the week for visitors, though at least you had the good grace to warn us of your arrival."

"Oh," said Elrond curiously. "We are not the only ones to sojourn here?"

Before Haldir could respond, he was interrupted by the princess.

"Please do not say, Marchwarden, that the King of Greenwood the Great is presently here!" she groaned.

"Very well, Princess," Haldir replied, and turned to Elrond. "If you must know Thranduil Oropherion the Insufferable is here with his retinue. I take it you have had to host him as well?"

"Yes," replied Elrond, over another unladylike groan from Gíl-wen, "though why do you have reason to disrespect him?"

"He's just jealous because King Thranduil beat him at a game of throwing knives!" came Orophin's cheerful voice as he dropped down from his place in the tree. "It has been nothing but feasts and dancing since the Greenwood elves have arrived. They are quite a merry lot."

"Disruptive to the peace more like… " muttered Haldir under his breath. He then turned to his brother: "Go back up into your tree, _tithen gwador_ (little brother)… " He turned to Elrond's company: "I shall escort you to Caras Galadhon."

* * *

As they made their way to the main city of Lothlórien, Gíl-wen ventured to ask: "Does the king intend to stay long, Haldir?"

"I know not, my lady," came the Marchwarden's reply. "He has told no one of his plans. He arrived here last week unannounced and had been staying with his cousin, Lord Celeborn. He has developed a great interest in the Lady Celebrian and the two of them have been seen in each other's company constantly." He said the last part with a sad look at Elrond. The _peredhel_ lord looked slightly irritated, though he hid it well– Elrond was beginning to understand what Glorfindel felt and briefly thought about excusing his captain from penning the apology for his behavior.

Gíl-wen, however, felt something stir within her when she learned that Celebrian had been spending time with _her_ king... Wait, since when did he become "_her_ king?"… She tried to appear disinterested:

"Well, I hope he will leave soon; Celeborn and Galadriel don't need an abundance of guests, and Elrond and I intend to stay for a awhile."

* * *

When they reached the Lord and Lady's talon, they were greeted warmly by Celeborn and Galadriel.

"Welcome to Lothlorien, Elrond Peredhel, and welcome Gíl-wen Gil-galadiel," Celeborn said warmly. "We apologize that our daughter is not here as well to welcome you. She went with our cousin, Thranduil, to enjoy the cool waters of the springs this afternoon."

Elrond briefly looked like he wanted to murder a certain someone and then schooled his face to one of mild disinterest.

Galadriel of course noticed and reassured the Elven Lord of her daughter's affection.

"You need not worry, son of Earendil. They have but the affection of close family for one another. I am certain they would quite glad of your company–both your companies." She added the last with a pointed look at Gíl-wen.

Gíl-wen quite put out by the thought that Thranduil was spending time with Celebrian, no matter what the Lady said, and furthermore she needed time to herself to think about how she should behave around the king due to this certain development.

She excused herself to her rooms:

"I am certain that they would, my lady, but I am quite weary from our journey. Might I be shown to my chambers that I might rest before the feast tonight?"

"Certainly, dear one," Galadriel acquiesced and showed her the way, while Elrond was left to go find Celebrian and the notorious Thranduil.

* * *

Alone on her bed, left to her thoughts and staring up at the branches of the _mallorn_ tree that formed the ceiling, Gíl-wen pondered the news she had recently received: Thranduil was in Lórien.

She glanced helplessly at Finwë who was munching some carrots next to her:

"What would you do, Finwë?" she wondered aloud.

Finwë twitched his little nose, looked at her with wide bunny eyes, and resumed the ingestion of his vegetable.

She sighed and returned her gaze to the woody ceiling.

"Oh course, you wouldn't know. You've probably never been in love, you silly rabbit."

It could not be that Thranduil had known she was coming, and wanted to be with her; he had departed before she had even made her decision, and he had said that he was going back to the Greenwood... Or at least that is what the whole of Imladris had supposed. So such a meeting now was unplanned by either herself or the king.

Would he be angry at her for the actions of her beloved?

Glorfindel... _Ai!_

Here she was suppose to be pining away after her balrog slayer, when the one person in the world who hindered such affections was now himself in the one place she had hoped to find respite.

Could her luck get any worse? Or perhaps... perhaps the Valar were sending her a sign.

Gíl-wen got up off the bed and moved around the room, readying herself for the evening. She changed into her golden flower gown without really thinking about it and wondered how she should behave in the Elven King's presence.

She decided that she would be civilly distant from the Elven King, for Fin's sake, because it was the reason she had come on this holiday. She would tone down how she acted in Imladris around the king, which maybe _was_ a bit too animated and flirtatious, and then let fate take its course. If she were meant to be with Glorfindel, then surely her heart would ache for him in spite of Thranduil's presence; if she were meant to be with Thranduil–_ah, a girl could dream–_then the Valar would take care of everything else.

A small part of her felt distantly sorry for Glorfindel, while another part, a very large part, of her soul, was elated with joy as she readied herself for the feast.

Gíl-wen fastened her emerald and mithril pendant about her neck and, with one last look in the glass, went to find her dear friend Celebrian.

* * *

**BrownEyedGirl87: I am rather flattered that you are having all these feels and emotions! It means I must be doing my job as a writer! Continue to enjoy… I send you virtual tissues...**

**Lady Silverfrost: Yes, they do need distance! I'm not sure if it is a good thing for Glorfindel though.**

**glassary: LOL I LOVED YOUR COMMENT. Finwe has come close to being a menu item several times :)**

**HinaTea: Someone already loves Fin… that would be me… even though I give him a hard time.**

**IKhandoZatman: Thanks ;)**

**VivianChaotica: YAY! If you would like some more cool Galion stories, check out Jael the Scribe's work. Jael writes a whole lot and very, very, very well. Great Thranduil/Galion friendship in those tales too. Check out my favorites, esp. the story ****_Not Fade Away. _****Also, I don't know if you read any ****_Jeeves and Wooster _****by P.G. Wodehouse, but kinda get my inspiration from that relationship, though I think Galion says aloud everything Jeeves wants to… ;)**

**Optymistka: I tried… I really did… I will keep trying...**

**FollowTheSun22: This is set right after the Last Alliance so I would suppose that there aren't a lot of orcs anymore… I mean they are not as organized and things are relatively peaceful! Don't worry :) I am not cruel…but you have given me some ideas ;)**

**gginsc: he will, he will; but he has to realize that she really doesn't love him before he can move on. Check out one shot if you haven't already!**

**MayEast: Awwww… thank you! Thrandy does need a friend. He always struck me as character who would not have a lot of friends, but only one good friend. I kinda imagined it to be like ****_Jeeves and Wooster..._**

**Mr. Darcy: ****_Love the name;) _****I am glad your day was made. More Rondy and Finwë to come. We have to wait a few chapters before either Fin or Res get their ladies. Just FYI they will be from Lorien... ;) No, Thranduil gets Gíl-wen. It is kinda confusing because neither Gíl-wen or Thranduil want to admit they like each other ALOT and Gíl-wen is still trying hard to love Fin. AGHHHHHHH! SO CONFUSING! LOL, but I hope that that kinda clears things up.**


	15. Chapter 15: Elrond Proposes

**Guys, Guys,**

**Elrond POPS THE QUESTION… eeeekkkkk… so, I hope you are excited as I am.**

**Just a note. Thranduil and Celeborn are first cousins as their mothers were sisters. **

**Well, enjoy! Replies to reviews at the end of the next chapter! **

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

Elrond wandered the paths of the Golden Wood until he came to a clearing, where tall _mellyrn_ trees lined the banks of the Anduin. Small streams of crystal clear water flowed gently onto the banks, forming tributaries wherein the elves of Lórien could both wash and swim. It was here that the _peredhel_ found his beloved engaged in a rather vigorous water-showering contest with the Elven King.

"Thran, you are cheating!" squealed Celebrian, as Thranduil ceased his manual splashing and move to lift his second cousin and dunk her undignifiedly in the water.

In a flash, Elrond was to the rescue of his intended, dress robes and all. He pulled Celebrian firmly against him, away from the crazy Sinda's grasp and into the safety of his own arms.

"Elrond!" she gasped in surprise, from which she quickly recovered. "Oh, El!" and she began to kiss him enthusiastically.

Elrond, not usually one for such public displays of affection, rather relished the attentions he was receiving and perhaps, just a little, lingered in the kiss possessively.

Thranduil smirked at the enamouredness he was witness to, and not to be deterred in his mischief making, dunked both the unsuspecting elves together into the river as they canoodled.

* * *

All three elves lay on the riverbank, soaking up the afternoon sun in an effort to dry themselves before the evening's feasting. Elrond had removed his wet robes down to his breeches after re-submerging from the water into which Thranduil immersed them and joined Celebrian in exacting a wet vengeance on her cousin. Now, he reclined on the warm grass, idly playing with strands of Celebrian's golden hair.

"How long do you intend to stay, _meleth_?" his beloved asked, still staring upward into the blue sky, content with the feeling of Elrond's fingers running through her tresses.

"Until I get what I came for, _gur nin_, " he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

She turned her head to look at him quizzically. "And what would that be?"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Would you like to know?"

"That's why I asked."

"Perhaps it is secret military information."

"We live in peace, El… "

"Perhaps I do not wish to tell you."

"Perhaps I shall give you no more kisses… "

They glared at each other for a few moments, Elrond stubbornly holding his ground, so Celebrian sighed softly and looked away.

"I can always ask Gíl-wen. I assume you brought her at any rate… "

Thranduil, who had been lazily dozing, instantly perked at the mention of Gil-galad's daughter. He eyed Elrond curiously eager for his response.

"Yes, she did. In fact this little escapade was her idea… though I have been meaning to come for quite a while now."

Celebrian turned back to her beloved. "Have you?"

He looked at her lovingly. "Yes, _meleth_, I have… " And he pulled her close for some more tender kisses.

While the two love-birds were engaged in their embrace, Thranduil contemplated the _peredhel'_s response. Gíl-wen was in Lórien! Gíl-wen was here…

He had taken the long way home to shake off the constant thoughts of another's beloved and stayed many days in the fair realm in an effort lessen the loneliness that was slowly creeping into his soul. He had spent the nights in feasting and dancing, hoping that one of the unwed _ellyth_ would catch his eye and he could forget about his encounter in Imladris. But he could not.

He thought of Gíl-wen when he rose in the morning; he thought of Gíl-wen when he prepared himself for his day; he thought of her as he accompanied his cousin on her walks and playfully chased her through the mellyrn. In Gíl-wen's name, he won the various athletic contests he partook of in the evenings, and found himself measuring each _elleth_ he danced with against her–none could compare.

Only the other evening he had mentally berated himself for not remaining in Imladris and trying to steal her from the Balrog Slayer. She was proud. She was beautiful. She was strong. She was everything a queen should be, and he cursed himself for not trying harder–Galion was right, as usual, to push him so.

But now, now she was in Lothlórien, un-anticipated; something must have occurred between her and her lover… Well, whether it did or not, he would not let anything stay in his way. He would court the Lady Gil-wen shamelessly.

* * *

Sometime before dinner, Elrond found himself alone with Lord Celeborn to obtain what he had come for. Celebrian had gone off to ready herself for the feast and Thranduil had gone to his own guest quarters to do the same. The _peredhel_ now stood nervously before his beloved's father.

"I have come to ask for Celebrian's hand in marriage," he said softly.

Celeborn raised his brows, amused by the_ peredhel_'s trepidation.

"Have you, indeed?" he paused a moment as if in consideration, and then broke into a wide grin. "What took you so long, _peredhel_?"

Elrond blinked unsure of what to say to such a response, then laughed weakly. "I… um… well… " he stammered. Celeborn crossed the room to lay a calming hand on Elrond's shoulder. "My son–for you are already that in my heart–I wish you joy. My daughter loves you dearly, and I do not doubt that if I had refused your request, I would have lost a daughter in spite of my disapproval."

"I can ask her, then?" Elrond asked disbelievingly; for some odd reason, perhaps because he was experiencing that uncertainty most young suitors feel when facing their lover's father, he was apprehensive that he would not meet Celeborn's approval. He had to be certain.

Celeborn looked at him humorously. "Is not that what I just implied?" He moved to the small dresser in the room and lifted a velvet pouch from its lid. Opening the pouch he put the contents in the _peredhel_'s hand. "This should be of some assistance," he said merrily. "Do not wait too long." And the elder elf lord strode briskly from the suite.

Elrond stood standing there, trying to wrap his head around what had just occurred. After a few minutes of stunned puzzlement, it dawned on him that he been successful and could now seek out his beloved. Now overjoyed, he looked down at his hand and saw that Celeborn had placed there two thin bands of fine mithril.

Laughing in delight, he too quit the room, with light steps carrying him in the direction of Celebrian.

* * *

"You look fine, Cel," said Gíl-wen for the tenth time. The princess was feeding Finwë bits of lettuce as Celebrian tried on seemingly every dress she had.

"But El is here!" Celebrian insisted. "I must look my best!"

"Why? He is already besotted with you… you need not trouble yourself with your appearance." Celebrian looked at her friend incredulously.

"I can still look nice for him. Oh bother, this one will not do either." She tried on yet another gown while Gíl-wen rolled her eyes. "By the way, my dear, how are you and Fin doing?"

Gíl-wen sighed. "We are not. I still cannot find it in my heart to love him, which is why I am here. I am seeing if absence will make my heart grow fonder."

Celebrian looked at her with pity. "I am sorry, _mellon nin_; perhaps it will… or perhaps you will find new love here."

_Well, that was that then._ Gíl-wen looked wistful.

"Come, dear, no pouting," Galadriel's daughter admonished, and she pulled Gíl-wen up from the bed and twirled with her around the room. "We both look absolutely stunning; let us go find Laïrenelle and Berethiel and give the _ellyn_ something to stare at."

The two maidens giggled mercilessly while Finwë looked on, intrigued; then the little bunny hopped down from the bed to join the festivity.

* * *

Elrond could not find his intended before the feast and instead rounded a corner to run headlong to two Greenwood elves dressed simply in green and brown. So engrossed was he in his mission, that he briefly murmured an apology and proceeded on his way, or at least started to–

"Wherever are you going, _peredhel_?"

Elrond turned about to find that one of the elves was actually the king, rather plainly clad for his usual ostentation.

Annoyed at being interrupted from his quest, he glared at the Sinda.

"My business is my own, Sinda!"

The Elven King glanced briefly at his companion who merely rolled his eyes and shook his head, and then replied to Elrond's statement.

"Is it truly? Why are you here, Elrond? Perhaps you can answer me truthfully, since you did not answer my cousin so."

The Lord of Imladris sighed. There really was nothing for it then. In an effort to begone from Thranduil's presence as quickly as possibly, he answered truthfully. "If you must know, I am going to propose to the Lady Celebrian."

"Are you now?"

"Yes, yes I am; if you will excuse me."

Thranduil moved to block his escape: "Oh, I don't think so… Do you love her?"

"Yes!" cried an annoyed _peredhel_.

"Will you care for her for eternity?"

"Yes, now please move aside… "

"You know I have an army,_ peredhel_; she is like a sister to me… "

"Oh for Valar's sake, Thranduil, her father has already given me permission… I do not need yours."

"If you harm a hair on her head… "

The two _ellyn_ engaged in a stare-down.

"I love her… "

"Hmmmmph… "

Galion interrupted the confrontation with his merry laughter. Both lords turned to look at him. "Come now, sire, we should offer our congratulations; at least your cousin won't be lonely like you."

Thranduil glared briefly at his butler, then turned back to the _peredhel_: "I suppose so, if, my lord, you can help me in return… "

* * *

Elrond finally was able to sway Celebrian away from the revelers of the evening, and the two were engaged in a loving walk upon the riverbank.

"Gíl-wen successfully evaded Thranduil, then?" he asked curiously.

"Well, she had until we left," commented Celebrian cheerily. "I am afraid though that I saw him beeline in her direction as soon as we had gone."

"Ah, that is good then."

"You approve of their relationship; what about Glorfindel?"

"Whatever my captain entertains now is vain hope; he knew from the beginning her heart was not his. I cannot believing I am saying this, but Thranduil compliments her better and keeps her in her place, not to mention that being queen of the Greenwood will help keep her busy, which she desperately needs. Once you have taken your place as Lady of Imladris, she will have nothing to do."

"I suppose their tempers match better–wait– " Celebrian stopped in her tracks. "what do you mean, _once I am Lady of Imladris_?"

Elrond took her hands in his and gazed lovingly into her face. "You will say yes, won't you, _gur nin_?"

"El," said the lady bashfully, "El, you haven't asked me anything yet."

Elrond smiled playfully. "Very well. Celebrian Celeborniel, will you be my bride?"

"Can I think about it?"

"Do you want the opening or not?"

Celebrian threw her arms around Elrond's neck and kissed him soundly. Then she leaned and nuzzled her face against his.

"I think you have my answer," she said.


	16. Chapter 16: Enter Berethiel

**Thank you goes out to BrownEyedGirl87 for the creation of the OC Laïrenelle! Her and her sister Berethiel will be featured in this story from here on out!**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

Gíl-wen tried as much as possible to avoid the Elven King at the feast. She stayed close to Celebrian or danced with other _ellyn_ deliberately avoiding Thranduil at every turn.

But now, with Cel gone, she found herself suddenly alone and vulnerable, for there was Thranduil, crossing the green, intent on speaking to her. _Ah, well, there was nothing for it._

"Gíl… "

"_L'suilon, aran nin_, (well met, my king)" she said politely, with a slight curtsy.

Thranduil stop shortly at her greeting. He had not expected to be avoided for the entire evening and then greeted in such a formal manner. But still he persisted; Elrond had told Thranduil to break stubbornly through any barriers she put up, for, he assured the king, his cousin's affections were true even if she did not realize it. He gave her his most winning smile,

"Dance with me, _gil nin_."

Gíl-wen's heart fluttered at the endearment, but she could not, would not, give in so easily. She thought of Glorfindel distantly, like a faint echo of a long forgotten memory. Beside her, the _elleth_ Laïrenelle responded before she could formulate a polite refusal.

"The princess is tired from all the merriment, sire, perhaps me or my sister can dance in her stead." Laïrenelle had been Celebrian's friend from early childhood– a quiet yet happy _elleth_ who took care of her younger sister, Berethiel. Her father had fallen during the Last Alliance fighting under King Amdir's banner, and her mother and brother sailed to Valinor. But Lairenelle, close to Celebrian and still in love with the forests of Middle Earth, stayed in Lothlorien with her little sister. Together with Celebrian and Berethiel, she had decided to help Gíl-wen avoid the Elven King as best she could. Thranduil scrutinized the _elleth_ who addressed him:

"And you are?"

"Laïrenelle, sire."

"Ah… "

"This is my sister, Berethiel," she pushed forward a timid yet beautiful maiden. Thranduil took Berethiel's hand and kissed it magnanimously:

"Enchanted," he said. "Perhaps you would care to dance since the princess here seems suddenly to be weary…" his twinkling grey-blue eyes momentarily met Gíl-wen's in a challenge. If Gíl-wen was to be so standoffish, then Thranduil would awaken within her that lover's jealousy which was sure to lead her straight to his arms. "Shall we, _tithen bereth nin_ (my little queen)?" And he led Berethiel out amongst the merrymaking.

Gíl-wen breathed when Thranduil departed, though she was not sure it was in relief. She was furious! One moment he flirted with her, and the next he led nnother _elleth_ away to dance. But no, it was not his actions alone that gave her cause for censure. He had called Berethiel "his little queen"... how very forward! She flared her nostrils in anger.

Laïrenelle looked at her curiously. "Are you sure you wanted to refuse him? You could have accepted, you know. Berethiel is frightened of him as it is. She only agreed to this because Rumil is courting me and I do not wish to anger him… "

Gíl-wen was glaring after the Elven King, enraged with jealousy. "Oh yes! If he is so easy as to not even… as to… _AI_! he is insufferable… " Without another word, she stormed furiously from the crowd.

"But_ you_ wanted… " Laïrenelle sighed helplessly after her.

* * *

Berethiel really was not as frightened of the Elven King as her sister had said– she was merely quite shy and rather in awe of his ostentatiousness. However, from the moment he had called her "his little queen", she felt quite honored by his attentions, even if she had only agreed to dancing with him to save Gíl-wen. Courage struck her at that moment and she decided to delve into the rather odd relationship of the king and princess.

"You do know, sire, that as flatter as I am by your attention, I only agreed to this because the Lady Gíl-wen wishes to distance herself from you."

Thranduil snorted softly. "Is that so? I feel flattered, my lady."

"I meant to say… " stammered Berethiel apologetically.

Thranduil looked at her understandingly, "It is alright, Berethiel. I understand. Did the princess tell you why?"

"She said it was because she wanted to have to time to reflect upon her relationship with the Lord Glorfindel. May I be perfectly honest with you, sire?"

"Were you not already?"

"Well, I suppose so… Sire, I do not think she truly loves Lord Glorfindel. I think, though I do not anything about love, but I think perhaps that her heart is yours. She just does not want to admit it."

"And why ever not, _penneth_?"

"Because she does not wish to break the Lord Glorfindel's heart… even though it is inevitable."

"And what would you suggest, youthful wise one?"

"Well, sire, you will have to be quite forceful with her and not let _elleth_ like me get in your way." She winked at him as she said the last part. What was it about this _ellon_ that brought out her inner mischievousness?

"Why, _tithen bereth nin_, I think I quite like you."

"Ah yes," replied Berethiel, "but there is one whom you like better."

"Shall we conspire together for me to win her heart?"

"Surely such a charming _ellon_ as yourself does not need help… "

"You are forgetting a certain balrog slayer… "

"Ah well, perhaps I can return with Lady Celebrian to Imladris and distract him… "

"And leave me free to win her heart."

"She likes _elanor_ blossoms."

"Does she also like wine?"

* * *

**IKhandoZatman: More Finwe for you… look out for some oneshots in the future :)**

**Optymistka: Chapter 15 is really long, so this almost counts as three;)**

** .ravenclaw: well he doesn't exactly ask Celebrian… just everyone else, though he might… **

**FollowTheSun22: Elrond and Celebrian are indeed courting, well they have been courting, Elrond is just wary of Thrandy. I think until two elves are betrothed, they are "fair game" and we all know what a little flirt Thran is.**

**Miss Darcy: I am glad you are now an account holder! Glorfindel will get someone very sweet.**

**May East: Thank you, as usual. Lol, Erestor does need someone to tame Finwe though hopefully once Gíl-wen weds, Finwë will be Galion's problem...**

**BrownEyedGirl87: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE USE OF LAÏRENELLE. So I sorta skipped over her backstory a bit and made Berethiel her sis, but she will have more scenes to come ;)**

**Lady Silverfrost: Glorfindel's memory is interfering currently… but it will become more distant as we move forward… Eek!**

**Elf With Redbull: I do too… he has a habit of hopping in and out of these chapters ;)**


	17. Chapter 17: Trying to Think of Fin

**Hello Lovely Readers,**

**After quite a while of editing, I give you…. THREE WHOLE CHAPTERS!**

**Let me know, either through reviews or PM's, if the story is progressing too fast for you… If you want me to slow down and add scenes between people or such… or you think something is quite entirely progressing the way you would want, or you don't understand some character development. I am aimed to please and will try to accommodate your request as best as possible.**

**Up next, we have a jealous Gíl-wen, Finwë, thinking that he is a puppy and a rather interesting encounter with Thran and Bereth.**

**Enjoy!**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

Departing from the feast, Gíl-wen made her way blindly to her _talan,_ her eyes fresh with tears. She wanted no more than to dance and flirt with the Elven King and she had outright denied him. She had expected him to go off in defeat, refusing to dance with either Berethiel or her sister; though she had dreamed that he would have ignored her protests and sweep _her_ shamelessly off her feet in amongst the revelers. But to flirt with the young Berethiel, to call her the pet names he should only reserve for Gíl-wen?

_Ah well_, thought the princess, _you did what you had too… now you can go think of Glorfindel_.

Climbing up to her suite, Gíl-wen decided that she would write a letter home to Fin to get her mind off of a certain Elven King. She moved about the room, collecting parchment, pen, ink and a bunny to place on her lap to pet and talk to.

"Now what should we write to Fin," she said to Finwë, sitting down at the small desk that occupied the corner. "We definitely shouldn't tell him about Thranduil… that will never do, he would gather up the warriors and march on Lórien."

She began to jot down some words of greeting and the beginning of a letter telling him of her safe arrival, all the while continuing to muse aloud to her notorious rabbit.

"I mean who really would have thought, Finwë, that Thran would be here of all places! He was suppose to go home. Not here. Home!" With the last word, she rather vigorously stroked the page and her pen let a blot of ink upon the paper. Cursing softly, she crumpled the note up into a ball and threw it across the room. Without a thought, Finwë jumped down from her lap and went to fetch it.

"_Ai_! Finwë, I don't need that, but thank you." She patted the creature on the head, then move to pick him up and put him in his bed with some vegetable cuttings. "You stay there, darling, I am going to go see if a walk in the woods will cure me of this unhealthy obsession."

* * *

_Think of Glorfindel_, she told herself as she walked aimlessly through the trees. She thought of when they had first met when she was a little elfling.

* * *

"Ada," _whispered a small Gíl-wen as she stood by her father on their visit to Imladris._ "Ada, _is that the Balwog Slayew_?"

_Glorfindel was a legend among elflings and Princess Gíl-wen was not an exception. She hid shyly behind her father, as Glorfindel approached and knelt before the King and his daughter._

_"Why hello, little Princess… " said the Lord of Gondolin to the timid elfling._

_"Yes,_ gíl nin, _say hello to the Lord Glorfindel."_

_"Hello, Lowd Glow-findel." Gíl-wen appraised the Balrog Slayer with wide curious eyes. He was a big _ellon_ like her father, but he did not look like a mighty hero. He was not even dressed in armour. Dubiously she questioned him:_

_"Did you weally kill a balwog?"_

_Glorfindel laughed. Gíl-wen frowned harder and glared at him. Crossing her little arms over her chest, she waited for her answer with all the regal imposingness a five year old princess could muster._

_He quickly checked his merriment and stated seriously. "Yes, little one, that is what they tell me… "_

_She looked quizzically at him. "You don't wemembew?"_

_Glorfindel looked up at the High King for a translation of his daughter's speech and a silent pleading look at him to intervene before he had to explain the concept of death to the small child._

_"_Gíl nin_," said the king softly. "I am sure Lord Glorfindel does not wish to remember his fight with the balrog as it hurt him greatly, just as you do not wish to remember the times you fell out of the tree."_

_Gil-wen looked curiously up at her father considering what he had just said and then turned back to the other elven lord._

_"I twied when I fell fwom the twee. Did you twy, Findel?" she asked seriously, with a look of pity on her small face._

_Glorfindel, wishing to turn the conversation to a more pleasant subject, decided to affirm the Princess' question._

_"Yes, my princess, I believe I did… "_

_Princess Gíl-wen brought the small stuffed bunny she had been holding and placed it in the older _ellon_'s hands._

_"Hewe, Findel," she said sweetly, "This is Thingol. When I twy sometimes, I talk to him and he makes me happy. But I still have Helvui and Finduilas. Thingol can be youw fwiend and make you bettew when you sad."_

* * *

Oh, how she wished she had a Thingol to give Glorfindel in place of her heart now, then she could be happy with Thranduil, and…

Gíl-wen pause in her ambling, hearing voices come from around the bend in the path. They were soft voices as if two elves were conspiring, and she recognized the deeper one. Not wishing to intrude, but desiring to see what was transpiring, she climbed up into the nearest tree to watch the scene below.

Thranduil and Berethiel–_Berethiel!–_stood nearby the fountain close to one another. Berethiel's head was resting on his shoulder and the two elves appeared to be swaying back in forth as if still dancing. Soft laughter floated up into the surrounding _mellyrns,_ and Gíl-wen caught snatches of their conversation.

"...I really do love you… "

"Thranduil, stop being such a sap… "

"You are like the grape of my wine… "

"Really, you are being silly… "

"The sugar in my honey-cake… "

"Are you hungry or in love?"

Gíl-wen heard enough! Blinded by her tears, she quietly left the her eavesdropping and went to find her thinking tree. She was heartbroken, to say the least, for there was HER Elven King, professing his love to another… That was supposed to be her there in Thranduil's arms, her to whom he was saying such odd endearments. But then, it was her own stupidity that had pushed her to refuse his advances in the first place… She climbed up into her thinking tree, a great _mallorn_ near the outskirts of the city, and cursed herself for ever leaving Imladris in the first place.


	18. Chapter 18: Orophin Gives Advice

**For all you Orophin fans…. In my head, Orophin and Gíl go waaaay back, since he was in elfling panties…**

* * *

An hour later Gíl-wen sat in her thinking tree still forlorn. It would all be so much easier if she had not happened upon Thranduil shamelessly flirting with Berethiel. Thranduil called _her_ pet names, kissed _her_ hand, gave _her_ the attention. Berethiel was nothing but a young, shy _elleth–_not even very pretty–with no family to speak of, no great lineage–she snapped a twig she was fiddling with and threw it to the ground in her exasperation.

"Whatever did that twig do to you, princess?" came a curious voice from the branches next to her.

She glanced over and saw Orophin standing in the neighboring tree. Uninvited, he skillfully clambered up onto her branch and sat down beside her swinging his long legs. "Care to share?" Orophin and she had been friends ever since he was elfling and she, as a young _elleth_, had taught him to climb the trees of Lórien. To open her heart to him was not an arduous task.

She sighed, overwhelmed by the night's events, and began to share her true thoughts with her new companion.

"I just don't know, Orophin, I don't know what to do. I was courting Fin until I left Imladris... well that was before Thran came and we met and we talked and flirted a little, but not seriously, and then Fin got jealous. Then Thran left for the Havens with his _naneth_, and Fin decided to pick me every single flower in Imladris, but despite it all I could not stop thinking about a certain someone... _Ai_! I still cannot stop thinking about him... When he came back to Imladris, I was so excited to see him, and spent the whole afternoon with him and Fin got jealous, again, and said some really nasty things about his _adar_, at which point Finwë interrupted because he was running for his life from Erestor - which seems to have happened a lot in the last couple weeks; good thing I brought the poor baby here to have a break. Anyways, a kinslaying was narrowly avoided and I came here to get away from both of them... but he's here, Orophin, he's here, and I want to talk to him and flirt with him and dance with him, but I can't 'cause I promised Fin I would try hard to love him... And now, because I spurned him, Thran has gone off and taken to wooing Berethiel!"

She groaned hopelessly and put her head in her hands.

"So basically," said Orophin in summary. "You love Thranduil and not Glorfindel, and you just lack the courage to tell them both."

"Yes... no… " she looked up at him intently. "Why do say such things?"

Orophin laughed gently. "Princess, things seem to come easy for you with the Elven King and not so with Lord Glorfindel; am I correct?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so… "

"And you think about the king constantly do you not?"

"Yes… "

"And the Lord Glorfindel?"

"Who?"

"Fin."

"Ah, yes, well, not really… "

"You love the king, Princess. You do not love the–_Fin_. Love is not complicated. If you are meant to be with someone it will happen. You cannot make someone love you. If Fin truly loves you, he will be happy for you if you chose Thranduil, because true love wants the best for the object of its desires. You must find the courage to tell Fin what truly lies in your heart. Yes, it will hurt him for a time; but then he come to understand when he sees you happy."

With the cessation of Orophin's advice, Gíl-wen reached over and began to pull at his cheeks and peer into his eyes.

"Is my _adar_ somewhere in there? _Ada? Ada_?" she ceased her strange behavior and explained to Orophin the cause of it. "_Goheno nin_, (forgive me) but _Ada_ said the same thing to me when I was little."

* * *

_Little Gíl-wen sat on the floor in tears, her stuffed bunnies all in the a row._

_Gil-galad came upon the sad scene and immediately scooped his young elfling into his arms._

_"Whatever is the matter,_ gíl nin_?"_

_"Oh, _Ada_," young elfling cried. "I..." sniff "...I cannot..." sniff "decide..." sniffle sniffle... "who to play with. Either Helvui, or Finduilas, or Thingol... If I plays with one of them," sniffles, "then the othew bunny will be sad... and, oh _ada_, I cannot decide. Helvui is my favowite, but if I play with him alone, then the othew bunnies be sad..."_

_"Oh, it is quite simple, _gíl nin_." Gil-wen looked at her _adar_ with wide adoring eyes._

_"Is it weally, _ada_?"_

_"Why, yes, _gíl nin_, it is. Do you love your rabbits, Gil?"_

_'Why, yes,_ ada, _all my rabbits," said a rather confused Gil-wen, who did not know where her_ adar's _question was leading._

_"Well then, as long as you love them all, Helvui can stay your favorite. The others will see you happy, though they may be a little sad at first; because they love you, they will be happy for you too."_

* * *

Orophin laughed merrily. "Are you comparing two mighty elf lords to a little elfling's bunnies?"

Gíl-wen grinned cheekily. "Well, I guess it works, doesn't it? hmmmm… Helvui is still my favorite rabbit. Don't tell Finwë."

"Or Thranduil," said Orophin seriously, and the two burst out in laughter. After they had quieted down, Orophin returned the more pertinent subject:

"So, my lady, what are you going to do about your love dilemma?"

"Well," said Gíl-wen carefully. "I suppose the next time Thranduil approaches me, I should entertain him-do you think he will do so? I scorned him at the feast and then I caught him professing his love to Berethiel but an hour later."

"Were you eavsdropping?" Gíl-wen had the good grace to look ashamed. "I am sure, my lady, that if the king is truly in love with you, he will no doubt seek you out and this passing fling with Berethiel is only to make you jealous."

"Well I am. And I do hope what you say is true; what about Fin?"

"Well, you are completely honest with him when you return to Imladris."

Gíl-wen sighed. "I suppose so..."

Orophin put an arm around her shoulder for comfort. "You have to do this, princess, or all three of you love-bunnies will be miserable."

She glared at him briefly then rested her head on his shoulder taking in the peaceful evening in Lothlórien aglow with the twinkling lights from the various flets.


	19. Chapter 19: Thranduil Proposes

**Chapter title, anyone? lol… It is about to happen...**

**I am kinda hurting for internet connect at the moment, so I will upload these now and reply to all your lovely reviews later...**

**Enjoy!**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

The next morning, Gíl-wen awoke to a soft wet kisses on her cheek.

"Oh, Thran, do stop, _meleth_… " She groaned. "I am not ready to get up." She blinked softly and opened her eyes to see two fluffy ears and bright black eyes looking at her curiously.

"Oh, Finwë!" she cried surprised. "You silly rabbit... what do you want this early?" Finwë cocked his head curiously to the door.

"Is someone there, Finwë? Oh well, I must get up... though I was having the most enjoyable dreams..."

She dressed in a hurry in her gown from the other evening–the yellow sunshiny one, Thranduil's favorite–intent on going to the main lawn to break her fast. It was a wide open glade in the middle of Caras Galadhon where the elves gathered in common to take their meals.

On her way to the glade she was met by a rather cheerful Berethiel. Gíl-wen tried her hardest not to glare at the maiden.

"Good morning, Lady Gíl-wen," the younger _elleth_ called out.

"Fair morning, Berethiel; how was your night with Thranduil?"

"Oh, it was quite lovely. By the way, Celebrian is waiting for you in "your spot". She has something to tell you. Most likely that Lord Elrond proposed last night..."

"Really," Gíl-wen said dryly, wanting to get the encounter over with as soon as possible to find HER Elven King. "Well, exciting; I am going to go to breakfast."

Berethiel cut her off, "No, you mustn't, Cel said it was quite urgent…."

"Urgent enough not to eat… Ah well…"

Their spot was a small clearing near the outskirts of Cara Galadhon lined in small beech trees. What exactly did Berethiel mean by "it was quite lovely"? she pondered as she made her way there. Did he do more than just dance, hold her close to him and whisper sweet nothings in her ear? Had he walked her home under the stars? Did he kiss her good night? Of all the…

"Going some where,_ gíl nin_?"

Thranduil appeared on the pathway in front of her. Her heart leapt miles and she wanted to appear happy and allow everything to go back to the way it had been, but for some reason, her recent encounter with Berethiel had put her in a bad mood.

"_Le suilad, aran nin_," she addressed him coldly. "If you would please be so kind as to move aside, I am late for a meeting with Lady Celebrian."

Thranduil wondered at her attitude, but merely nodded curtly to her, "Of course, my lady," and swung himself up into the nearest mallorn.

Gil-wen sighed, and then, tearing up a bit, resolutely continued on her way.

The path to the clearing was a narrow and lined with tall _mellyrn_. As she got almost there, she noticed her favorite white _elanor_ blossoms interwoven in the grass; curious, she looked closer. There were also pine cones carefully littered between the white flowers. She pick a few and entered the glade, to find a small table set up near the glass fountain. An assortment of fresh bread and fruits were arranged on the center, along with a flagon of drink and two rather delicate glasses. Puzzled, Gil-wen looked around, Celebrian was nowhere to be found.

"Looking for someone, _gíl nin_?"

She sighed heavily and turned to face a smirking Thranduil.

"Yes, Thran; if you must know, I am looking for Celebrian... I was told it was urgent."

"Ahhhh… who told you?"

Gil-wen rolled her eyes and looked at the ground. "Berethiel… she said you had a good night last night."

"Did she?"

"Yes… 'quite lovely' were her exact words… "

"Ahha, well," said Thranduil amusedly. Before he could say something else irksome, Gíl-wen replied.

"Do you intend to court her?" she blurted out.

Thranduil looked at her intently. "Do you care?"

"I… well… I…"

The king moved in close to her so that he was right up to her face; his gaze burned deep into her very soul but she did not flinch. Her heart responded to his, it seemed and she overcame her stammering. To have Thranduil suddenly this close to her felt oddly reassuring and peaceful–it was as if he belong there by her side for all the ages of the world. Gazing back into those grey blue eyes she had come to love, yes, love was the right word, she leaned in slightly so that there foreheads touched. There was only a small distance between the two of them now, a small gap that could easily be closed by a kiss, and quietly, oh so quietly she replied:

"Yes, yes,_ aran NIN_, I do care." Well, that was that then…

The small distance between them became infinitely smaller.

* * *

After several minutes of breathless kisses, Gíl-wen and Thranduil turned to the table to break their fast. Little Bunny Finwë, who had followed his mistress from her chambers, was currently feasting on the various spreads Thranduil had laid out for the two of them, deliberately ignoring the mushiness that was going on.

The king laughed aloud and turned to his beloved:

"He really is quite an insufferable bunny, _meleth_, you know that don't you?"

Gíl-wen snuggled into his broad shoulder, giggling as she did so.

"Finwë is adorable, Thran."

"Oh that explains everything… "

"What?"

"His name…_ cough,_ noldo, _cough_"

"Finwë, he was my great grandfather… Be nice, Thran… "

"I suppose for you, _gíl nin_… "

"I am a Noldo too, Thran… "

"Yes, _meleth_, but you are beautiful… "

"So is Galadriel… "

Thranduil shuddered: "Were you born to antagonize me?"

"Someone has to do it."

"That is Galion's job, though; you could replace him."

"And become your valet?"

He turned her to face him, with the gravest of looks on his countenance. He saw an opening and he took it.

"No," he uttered in all seriousness. "Not my valet, but my queen."

Gíl-wen tried to laugh it off. "Really, Thran, stop joking already."

He looked her in the eyes with all the loving, pleading honesty of his heart.

"Gíl-wen, Gíl-wen daughter of Gil-galad, Princess of the Noldor, Queen of my heart, I know we have only just met a few weeks ago, but you are my other half, the sun that brightens my days, the calm that softens my heart and lightens my moods. Please say that you will be my mate, my lover, my queen?" It was a fast proposal, but that was Thranduil–so certain was he that she was meant for him, so quick to act once he had decided what he was going to do–besides, he could not let the _peredhel_ wed before him...

Gíl-wen's heart stopped for a brief second. She was not even expecting him to reconcile with him today, much less be proposed to. It was too much. She burst uncharacteristically into tears.

"_Gíl nin_!" he exclaimed. "I did not mean to upset you… "

She threw herself into his arms. "Oh no, Thran, it's ok, I am just being rather foolish. I love you, I really do and I want nothing more to be your queen, but this is all so fast."

He kissed the top of her head endearingly. "I will wait until the end of Arda for you to bond with me, _gíl nin_."

She looked up at him with tear stained cheeks. "It won't be that long, Thran, but there's…"

"The Balrog Slayer… " he cursed.

"Thran, he is not really that bad."

"He insulted my father. Whatever did you see in him?"

"Thran, he was blind with jealousy. You didn't behave yourself either. And, if you must know he has been my friend since childhood. Please, I have chosen you and I will bond with you one day, but first, first I must give him closure. I do not wish to lose a friend."

He titled her head back to see her better. "You will not, meleth nin. I would slay a dragon if you ask me; I can be amicable to the Noldo– "

"His name is Glorfindel… "

"–I will behave. But does this mean, you are mine?" He brushed his fingers lightly over her lips and she shivered slightly.

"I am– " and before she could finish her sentence to protest that she was her own _elleth_, he had covered her mouth with his, Finwë and breakfast forgotten.


	20. Chapter 20: Of Love and Cousins-Part One

**Hello Readers,**

**After extensive editing of my whole story, (I went back and reread and edited the previous chapters and put accents and everything!), since I have learned how to write accents on my computer as well as long dashes–thank you, google!–I give you now the 20****th ****chapter.**

**I also added **_**The Many Adventures of Finwë and Aglar**_**! And I have two illustrations up on my tumblr account. There is a link on my profile, but also if you want to follow me on tumblr and add to my Tolkien fetish, my name is **_**thranduilisaran8. **_** See what I did there? ;) The 8 stands for "forever"...**

**Anyways, enough of my nerdness, hopefully I will be able to update daily this week.**

**Enjoy, and let me know what you think of this fluffiness!**

**L'Chaim... Philosophie88**

* * *

The two new found lovers moved to consume what was left of the breakfast that Finwë had demolished, Thranduil sitting relaxed on the ground with Gíl-wen leaning into his arms, absentmindedly eating the berries that he fed her. The Elven King was quite content with his position– waiting hand and foot on his lovely maiden. He had been nervous that she would still not accept the advances he had readied for her that morning with Berethiel's help.

"_Isn't this a bit over the top?" inquired Thranduil, perplexed as to why he and Berethiel were littering the pathway to the glade with pinecones and _elanor.

_Berethiel gave the Elven King a sharp glare that implied that he had momentarily lost his senses; she followed the look with her words: "Are you serious? You want to steal a maiden from the Legendary Balrog Slayer, and you are not prepared to go the distance to do it! Details matter, _aran nin_!" The _elleth _continued quite sensibly, "She LOVES _elanor, _not mention, she only tells the story of the "pinecone" every single time she sees one here– I mean, they are quite scarce in Lórien, but still, she tells that story every single time."_

"_What story?" asked Thranduil curiously._

"_Well, the one where you and she went on a walk in Imladris and you teasingly handed her a pinecone that reminded you of your home, telling her that it was the "only token of affection she would ever receive from a mighty, handsome Elven King and she had better accept it!"_

"_I never said that! I am not that pompous, or that much of a flirt."_

"_Really? _Tithen bereth nin?_" Berethiel laughed merrily. "You are quite a flirt, _aran nin! _ I am quite surprised that you need my help to be a romantic."_

_Thranduil slightly glowered at her for the suggestion that he was less than adequate at the task of romance. "I am perfectly capable of being romantic, Berethiel; I just don't engage in the task that often. I need you to give me a refresher." He then added thoughtfully. "I do remember the pinecone incident, come to think of it. How quaint that Gíl-wen remembers, even though I meant nothing by it."_

"_Ah, but that is just it," said the young elleth merrily twirling around a rather pensive Elven King. "It was all she had to remember your walks by, so she kept it!"_

"_And we are now strewing the pathway with pinecones because they are sentimental to her?" Thranduil concluded wryly. _

_Berethiel cast another short glare in his direction. "Details matter, Thranduil! At least to _ellyth_! They mean that our lovers are paining attention to us– our likes and our dislikes, the little passing fancies that catch our eye, the little moments that are priceless to us." _

"_Is that, so?" he asked bemused. "Here I thought it was just a pinecone."_

"_It is so much more than a pinecone," cried an exasperated Berethiel. "It is the symbol of your first time meeting, your jokes, your walks– all those lovely memories created in Imaldris. It has become something like the sigil of your love now!"_

"_You are quite poetic, Lady Berethiel."_

"_I was being serious, Lord Thranduil."_

Thranduil still was not sure if Gíl-wen liked the pinecone touch or not, but he thought that they added to the over all atmosphere of romance, and they reminded him of the Greenwood, so he kept them. He himself was too caught up in his beloved's sweet kisses to care if pinecones or thistles lined the pathway. She was his now. Nothing else mattered.

Gíl-wen had, of course, noticed the pinecones and the flowers. While at first thinking them odd, as she did not know that it was Thranduil who waited for her instead of Celebrian, she now found them thoughtful and romantic.

How sweet! I wonder if he remembers that one walk in Imladris, as well? thought Gíl-wen's ever active brain.

"Thran, dearest," Gíl-wen began. "I noticed the pinecones and the _elanor... "_

"Oh, did you?" repsonded Thranduil coyly. "How odd is it not? They just happened to be there this morning when I chose this spot." His eyebrows raised in a playful challenge.

"Really?"

"Yes, quite by accident." He poke the tip of her nose amusedly, then his fingers turned to a gentler caress and finally he cupped her chin to bring his lips to hers. As he started to deepen the kiss, Gíl-wen pulled away and made a face of mild disgust.

"Thran!" she exclaimed, "Are you drinking wine this early in the morning?!"

Thranduil was not at all phased by her surprise. "Oh course, does not everyone?"

Gíl-wen swatted him softly on the arm. "Only drunkards, Thran."

The Elven King reached for his goblet to take another sip of his wine, when Gíl-wen moved to intercept him and knocked the glass from his hand. The red wine seeped slowly into the earth and Thranduil looked down at it sorrowfully before returning his gaze to his beloved. Gíl-wen grinned evilly.

"You are quite fortunate that I love you more than wine, is it not? And it is a good thing that that was not Dorwinion or I would face a hard choice..."

Gíl-wen brought her face up close to his. "I am much better than good wine."

"Hmmmm, yes, yes, you are." He brought her in for another kiss. This time, the princess did not protest.

Gíl-wen was quite happy with the turn of events. She had not expected to reconcile with the Elven King this morning, much less be proposed to– now, to be in his arms, receiving his ministration– Ah Valar! she was quite content.

There still was the matter of Glorfindel; she was indeed trepidatious concerning her confrontation with the Balrog Slayer. She knew that anything she would say to him would break his heart and he was too kind and sweet to have that happen to him. Gíl-wen had warned the Golden Lord when he had pressed his suit and she had first accepted; yet he had been so determined, so sure that they were meant to be together... Now she had to return to Imladris and crush his dreams– for that is all they were. She was anxious indeed, and Thranduil's proposal had increased such anxiety. It was one thing to break Glorfindel's heart, having accepted the Elven King's suit; it was another altogether, having accepted his proposal for marriage.

Well, she would cross that bridge when she met it. For now, she snuggled into Thranduil's warm embrace.

* * *

Early afternoon found the lovers parting ways with several sweet kisses. Gíl-wen proceed to find Elrond and tell him of the morning's happenings, while Thranduil wandered around the pathways of Lórien, in love.

"You look happy, cousin," came a cheerful voice to break the Elven King out of his aimless ambling.

"Ah, Celebrian," replied an exuberant Thranduil. "I am indeed. I have found my mate, my queen, my love and she has excepted my proposal."

Celebrian looked at her royal cousin in astonishment. "You proposed!"

"Yes," the Elven King regarded the startled _elleth_ quizzically. "Is there a problem with this? I thought you were routing for me and the Lady Gíl-wen?"

While it was true that Celebrian wanted her cousin and Gíl-wen to bond, she had not expected things to progress this fast. They had only just met. They needed time to court, to learn each others ways, to tell Glorfindel... _Of all the... _Ellyn _these days..._

Celebrian rolled her eyes. "Oh, Thran, you are really foolish! Of course, I want you both to be together, but what were you thinking proposing this early?"

Thranduil did not see the problem with such a hasty proposal and he informed his cousin of such. "It came to me suddenly as we were talking. It only makes sense. She love me, I love her; the next logical step is that we bond."

"Can't you take time to romance her? To get to know her?" his cousin rejoined.

"I shall have all eternity to do so," replied the Elven King assuredly. "Besides I had to beat the _peredhel _to proposing." With the last comment, he winked playfully at the _elleth._

Celebrian laughed merrily at his statement. "I am afraid, cousin mine, that even though you jumped-the-gun, you did not beat Elrond to his proposal. He did so last night."

Thranduil gasped in mock horror. "Did he indeed?" he questioned sarcastically. "Oh, dear. I shall just have to bond first!"

"You have to give her time to tell Glorfindel," said Celebrian seriously. "You may not like the Balrog Slayer, but while she does not love him, Gíl-wen still cares for him. Give her time to mend things with him."

"I shall," Thranduil affirmed sympathetically. "But, honestly, I do not wish to wait too long to marry. Since _naneth_ left, the Greenwood needs a queen."

"This is true," agreed Celebrian. "Someone needs to keep you in check and give Galion a break."

"Why does everyone suppose that I give him a hard time, all he does is take care of Aglar, occaisonally... "

"And dress you... "

"He lays out my garments. Doesn't count."

"And feed you... "

"You definitely cannot count him bringing my food to me!"

"And of course, he probably does all your paperwork... "

"Really, Cel, you cannot count stacking."

And the two cousins continued arguing, while proceeding merrily, arm in arm, on their way to find a light repast.

* * *

**Valencia: I am glad you like Berethiel, and hope you like this chapter as well.**

**May East: So I am not sure if you are able to PM without an account, but you should seriously get one so that we can talk bunnies! I was not sure if bunnies fetched things or not, but I think that as an elvish pet, Finwë has special powers… hehehehehe… seriously though, if you have any cute bunny ****anecdotes, I would love to re-write them with Finwë and include them in _The Many Adventures..._**

**Lady Silverfrost: They are indeed! But it won't be all fluff… ;)**

**Darcy Lyons: I honestly have no idea how she is going to break this to Fin. AGH! I really hate breaking his heart… #necessaryevils**

**BrownEyedGirl87: So glad you liked the romance. I am quite new at writing lovey dovey stuff; glad I could be successful.**

**IKhandoZatman: Just wait until her kids get bunnies… hehehehe...**

**gginsc: Indeed. I kinda think that they compliment each other well, because they are both so stubborn and full of life, neither can really be submissive nor dominate the other– although they try. I felt that Gíl-wen was too weak for Glorfindel.**

**FollowTheSun22: To be honest, Gíl-wen was eavesdropping anyway… hopefully next chapter she will own up to it and Thranduil will let her know what he and Berethiel were really doing. Besides, she can't really stay mad at such a handsome Elven King...**

**Elf With Redbull: He did… hehehehehehehe… he did indeed ;) I may or may not have plans up my sleeve for this. Stay tuned.**

**Optymistka: Sorry, no four chapters… maybe, never, unless you give me like a whole month before I update ;) I am glad you like Orophin. Haldir needs some comic relief in his life. **

**VivianChaotica: I am glad you liked them! I think Jael is one of my favorite fanfic authors. There are also links on her profile to other works she has written. If you are also a Shakespeare fan, check out the Hamlet parody that Jael wrote.**

**LittleNK: You are welcome. I know, I feel sorry for Fin too and I dread writing that scene… I wish the elves could be reverse mormons and she wouldn't have to choose between the two.**

**Aeon Echelon: Why, thank you. I am glad you like my Thranduil. Well, technically he is Tolkien's Thranduil, but I took some liberties. ;) And thank you for the compliment. I appreciate knowing that there are those out there that like my work.**


	21. Chapter 21: Of Love and Cousins-Part Two

**Hello Readers,**

**So the reason I didn't update my story yesterday is because my sister, my friend and I are all trying to collaborate our stories. So we had to rearrange a few OC's! LaraIsWrite, who is under my favorite authors, is collaborating to write a couple OC's for my main characters, not telling who, though one is not yet even in this story (Hint); while my sister (MorfindelthePhysicist) is writing an Elladan/Elrohir love story set in the same universe. They aren't as far along as I because my sis just went back to school and my friend is trying to stick to Tolkien as closely as possible; however they are amazing writers, much better at prose than I with a little more serious nature to their works. Check them out. Or at least check my sis out when she decides to post. #MorfindelthePhysicistneedstopostheroneshot! Lol. I will give y'all a heads up.**

**Here now is your daily dose of Elven craziness. **

**Elrond and Gíl-wen are being quite fluffy!**

**Enjoy! Leave a review and let me know how you like how things are panning out.**

**Thanks.**

**L'Chaim... Philosophie88**

* * *

Gíl-wen found Elrond in his flet idly reading a book.

"So, Rondy, pop the question, did you?" She said, silently creeping up on him from behind.

"Gíl-wen!" exclaimed the _peredhel _ in surprise, he shut the book with a snap, "would you cease and desist with that horrible nickname? Also with creeping up on people? And being annoying in general while you are at it?"

Gíl-wen pouted. "Now, now, _Rondy_, what has you in such a bad mood? I thought Celebrian said yes."

Elrond smiled slightly through his glare. "Yes, she did, but it does not negate the fact that you have butchered my cognomen."

"Well, Lord Elrond Eärendilion of Imladris, here is the deal," said Gíl-wen with an air of hastiness, and she plopped herself down on the bed beside said lord. Little Finwë, who had accompanied his mistress, hopped up beside Elrond, who obligingly stroked the bunny's fur. "I will cease calling you 'Rondy' –_excepted for special occasions_, she added in her head–if you help me with a dilemma I am currently having." Her previous mischievous mood was replaced by a more melancholic one. Elrond gazed at her with an expression of inquiry.

"Whatever do you need, cousin dear?"

Gíl-wen suddenly began to pick her garment nervously. Elrond stilled her actions by placing his large hands upon her small ones. She immediately looked up at him sorrowfully.

"_Gur mel_, (dear heart), whatever is the matter now? You came here to relax, not be upset."

"I know," Gíl-wen sighed wistfully. "And I was... for a whole minute, until I found out that Thran was here. And now, he has proposed and I don't know what to do."

"HE PROPOSED?!" exclaimed an astonished Elrond.

"Yes, I mean one minute we were snogging and the next he asked me to be his queen."

"HE PROPOSED?!" repeated a flabbergasted Elrond.

"Rondy, I just told you that... "

Elrond stared at his cousin in amazement, not even processing the use of his nickname. "What did you say?" He finally asked, unsure of what else to say.

"Well, I told him no... kinda. I said I needed time and that I would marry him in the distant future... "

"How distant?"

"An age... "

Elrond groaned. "Gíl, you basically said yes... "

"Well, yes, I guess, but I told him I have to break it to Fin first."

The _peredhel _sadly eyed his cousin. "Yes, you do, if you intend to court, well, wed, the Elven King. Why did he propose so fast? I told him to be forceful; I did not encourage him to make such a definitive move so quickly."

"You encouraged him?" asked a surprised Gíl-wen.

"Yes. He asked me if you would be receptive to his advances and if he should pursue you. I answered yes to both."

This time it was Gíl-wen whose wonder was long lasting. "How did you know that I would be receptive?"

Elrond laughed softly and drew his cousin into a slight embrace. "_Gur mel, _you forget that I have known you far too long for you to hide anything from me. I know you probably far better than you know yourself."

* * *

"_Uncle E-lond! Uncle El!" a raven haired elfling ran up to greet her father's herald, with Helvui and Finduilas in tow. "Uncle El!" she laughed merrily as the _peredhel swooped her up in his arms.

"_Hello, _penneth,_ where ever are you going in such haste?"_

_Little Gíl-wen laughed delightfully. "Why Uncle El, I am coming to see you," she planted a sweet little kiss on his cheek. "But now that I got you, you can help me find my othew wabbit." The little elf stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. "Thingol is missing."_

"_Is he indeed? Well we must rectify this situation." Little arms wrapped themselves lovingly around his neck and another small kiss found its way to his cheek._

"_Thank you, Uncle El! When we find him, Helvui and Finduilas won't be so sad anymowe."_

"_Of course," said the _peredhel. "_Now, where to look, _gíl pigen _(tiny star)?" The little one burst into tears._

"_I no know, Uncle El. I twied eveywhew. I look undew the bed and undew the couch and in Ada's woom and in Nana's woom and in my woom and eveywhew... " _

"_What about your special spot, _penneth_?"_

_Gíl-wen ceased her sobbing and looked at her "uncle" with wide eyes. "Oooooohhhhhh, it must be, it must be!" She wiggled down and out of his arms to run from him to find her "special spot". Then she turned back around to bestow a hug on the older elf's legs. "Thank you, Uncle El, I am suwe he's in special spot! You know me so well, Uncle El. Bettew than me myself. Can you hold Finduilas and Helvui fow me, while I get Thingol? I need to spend some special time with him alone."_

_Elrond accepted the two stuffed bunnies graciously and followed the little child at a discreet distance._

_It seemed that the job description for the High King's herald also included, holding bunnies and rescuing princesses._

* * *

"Yes, Rondy, you do, don't you?" She leaned into his hug. "Well, what do I do now?"

"First things first you do not call me..." the son of Eärendil the Mariner shuddered slightly instead of repeating such a demeaning title. "Then, you talk to Thranduil. Let him know that you do not intend to wed him anytime soon. And after that, you fix things with Glorfindel. Finally, you spend time with Celebrian and help her assume the duties of Lady of Imladris before you go gallivanting off to Greenwood the Great to become a wood-elf. And remember to take Finwë with you when you go"–Finwë looked curiously up at the mention of his name– "or Erestor shan't be very happy." The _peredhel _spared his cousin a mischievous wink, as he added to the to-do list: "Shall I write all these down for you in order?"

Gíl-wen returned the look in her own playful impish manner. "Find more suitable nick-name for a certain cousin; tell Randy to slow down; break Fin's heart; teach Cel EVERYTHING; leave behind another annoying pet for Res– Finwë not acceptable"–a soft growl of disapproval came from the animal, and Gíl-wen patted him on his head reassuringly–"Did I miss anything?"

Elrond was too busy processing a specific part of that list to apply immediately; when he did so, it was accompanied by a short burst of laughter.

"_Randy_?!" he chuckled. "Really, Gíl, wherever do you come up with your names? I thought you had shortened Thranduil's to Thran. Why the change?"

"Well someone I know wouldn't let me call them– "

"Do not even think it," Elrond warned.

"Anyway, I thought "Randy" had a cute little ring to it and besides, he can't threaten me like someone else I know. If he does not like the name, I suppose all I shall have to do is simply threaten to withhold my sweet kisses... "

"I do not wish to be privy to this information. What you do with 'Randy' in your spare time– "

"Only I can call him that!"

"What you do with King Randy, is your business entirely!"

"It'd better be," said the princess definitively. Then suddenly like a cold burst of water in the middle of a frigid winter, Gíl-wen remember Berethiel. Her voice grew bitter. "At least it had better be! Ai! That _elleth_ better keep her hands off... Little Sindarin... _Ai_– "

The slew of curses that Gíl-wen uttered caused her cousin to reach down and cover the small rabbit's ears. Before he could reprimand her for using such foul language, the angry princess had stood from the bed, crossed the room and exited the flet in a huff. Finwë looked on with horror as his mistress left him with Elrond's large hands clasped firmly over his floppy ears.

The Lord of Imladris looked down upon the terrified bunny, and released him from his grip, stroking his fur soothingly. "I'm sorry, Finwë, I really don't know what came over her. I am quite certain she will be fine when she realizes Thranduil was just trying to make her jealous, nothing more." The _peredhel _laughed softly at the thought. "She will of course, though I cannot be too sure about 'Randy'." He picked up the now calmed pet. "Shall we go find some nice vegetables for you? Or some of King Amroth's old robes to nibble on?"–said Elven King of Lórien was quite fond of the little creature and allowed him to play and nibble to his hearts content among the muskiness of his rather extensive wardrobe. Finwë looked positively gleeful and instantly alert at the mention of such a kind offer– "I am sure we can find something to pass the time while your mistress figures this all out. Seems like I am still the royal bunny watcher after all. Oh, well... "

* * *

**IkhandoZatman: I am currently writing you a drabble called **_**The House of Bunnies. **_** Your comments are inspiring. Thank you. Will try to post it to **_**The Many Adventures**_** tomorrow.**

**Elf With Redbull: Your pen-name has got me thinking... can I do a one shot about a certain bunny on redbull with Erestor? Anyways, I don't think anyone will be in mortal danger as Glorfy is most likely going to brood about it more than get physical.**

**Lady Silverfrost: I tried to portray Thranduil and Celebrian as close cousins, so she would be very happy that her cousin is marrying Elrond's cousin! OMG, so many cousins. I hope to include some Celebrian-Gíl-wen heart to heart moments in the near future.**

**MorfindelthePhysicist: It is really annoying to have to capitalize the "P" in the middle of your name. Kids these days... ok, I will stop being silly. Soooooooo... this chapter is for you! #rondytheroyalbunnywatcher Upload your story already!**

**priime: This story continues on through the War of the Ring and all the way till Oropher and Gil-galad realize they are both great-great grandfathers with the same progeny ;) I hope you stick around until then. There will be many more chapters. I am so very honored that my writing has encouraged you to write your own stories. I look forward to reading them!**

**May East: Thank you! I am glad you like the character development. Here's the next chapter. Stay tuned.**


	22. Chapter 22: When It Rains, It Pours

**Hello Readers,**

**I am sorry for the delays in posting. School hasn't even started yet and I am already swamped with stuffed to do in preparation! :( Never fear. I am going to set aside time every week to work on my story so updates should be fairly regular at least.**

**This next chapter is for****_ gginsc_**** who predicted fireworks between our "happy" couple. Please do not virtually seek my destruction after reading this! You have been warned. It is rather angsty. And there is no Finwë to make it better. I do not apologize; I can only promise it will get better. Eventually.**

**AGGGGGGHHHHHH! my heart is hurting from writing this. **

**Enjoy, if you will.**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

Celebrian laughed playfully at her cousin's jokes as they made their way to find their lovers in the late of afternoon. The spring sun streamed warmly through the golden blossoming _mellyrn_ and a gentle breeze carried their laughter away with the chirping of the birds. Springtime in Lothlórien was gentle, energetic, contented and promising all in one. The two elves were engaged in a pleasant familial banter, heightened by the newness of their romances They were merry. They were loved. Nothing or noone could stop them–

"THRANDUIL OROPERION!" well, perhaps not. An angry Gíl-wen came storming into view, but before she could physical lay a hand, or finger or even a glare on the Elven King, Celebrian gallantly shoved her cousin behind her. Gíl-wen was only a little deterred by said _elleth_-barrier and continued her tirade shaking her finger enragedly at the son of Oropher. Thranduil himself maintained a calm, quizzical and bemused demeanor in the face of his beloved's fury.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? OF ALL THE… INSUFFERABLE… EGOTISTICAL… WHYEVER DO I FIND MYSELF ATTRACTED TO YOU? DID YOU KISS HER? DID YOU PROPOSE TO HER AS WELL? ARE WE JUST TROPHIES TO YOU?"

She tried, but failed to articulate a series of logical and coherent thoughts, so great was her anger at the Elven King. There was of course Berethiel, who had a part to play in this whole charade, but Thranduil– it was Thranduil who was truly at fault. She had tried unsuccessfully to stay mad at him when she first met him in the morning. Then there was his intense denial of any wish to court another, followed by the sweetness of his kisses, the warm muskiness of his scent–NO! she could not think of such things. Then she had delighted in breaking her fast in his strong arms, shivering at each graze of his fingertips across her lips as he fed her–_Ai_! What was the matter with her?! Couldn't an _elleth_ stay angry? Then she had gone to see Elrond and tell him of such a wonderful morning, his proposal and his kisses, so sweet, so powerful, so exciting–Rhaich! she was still mad; this did not excuse him. With Elrond's last comments to her, Gíl-wen remebered Berethiel and the conversation she had overheard the night before. Despite Thranduil's affirmations of affection, she had only just recently caught him wooing another maiden– and so quickly too. He did not have the excuse, like Gíl-wen did, of already being in a courtship. No. Gíl-wen saw his actions as inconsistent with his desire to woo and wed her and she would get to the bottom of this two-timing…

"Gíl-wen!" Celebrian's voice broke through the princess' angry glazed glare and Gíl-wen was starled her from her trance with a pinch. Apparently she had been so lost in her seething thoughts that she had ceased wagging her finger and settled for a livid stare of doom. "What in all of Arda is going on? You had better breathe a couple deep breaths before you begin to tell us what is the matter?"

From behind Celebrian, Thranduil spoke up in a gentle and soothing tone. "I think I can explain, Celebrian. It is, I suppose, my fault after all."

Celebrian looked confusedly at her cousin. Gíl-wen fumed at her beloved: "You SUPPOSE?" breath, breath "Oh, really?" breath "You had better do more than suppose…"

"Gíl nin…" said Thranduil gently trying to calm her.

"OH, NO YOU DON'T! NO PET NAMES UNTIL YOU EXPLAIN WHY JUST LAST NIGHT YOU CALLED BERETHIEL 'YOUR LITTLE QUEEN'!"

Celebrian looked at her cousin aghast. Without even bothering to ask for an explanation, she immediately sided with Gíl-wen and turned to face the Elven King with her arms crossed over her chest. Thranduil now found himself facing two glaring _ellyth_. He sighed and commenced his explanation.

"I would be sorry that I called her thus, but I cannot truly"–a growl of rage came from Gíl-wen, while Celebrian frowned disapprovingly at such a comment; Thranduil defended himself– "I cannot truly be sorry for my actions because such a farce only led me to your love, _meleth_. You would not be moved by my courtesies, nor by my endearments, thus I had to resort to drastic measures and try to see if your heart would be swayed by jealousy."

Gíl-wen calmed a little at his explanation, but still was not quite ready to forgive him entirely. "And what of Berethiel's poor heart? Would you break it by your false affection? Do you think so little of _ellyth_?"

Thranduil, in his turn, began to lose his temper. "You rejected my advances, Gíl-wen and conspired with those _ellyth_"–he glared pointedly at his cousin, who too was involved in the previous evening's "subterfuge"– "to maintain your distance from me even as a friend! You could not even honor our friendship, and spoke to me as a stranger, and you are angry at me for seeking comfort and playfulness elsewhere. Berethiel was honest with me from the start and told me all about your little "plan" to avoid me. Her heart is honest and strong and true; she knows I hold no true affection for her, but she deserves the little of _tithen bereth_ for all her courage and spirit."

"_Her_ courage… _her_ spirit… " Gíl-wen spluttered. "Did you compliment her on those as well last evening when you held her close in your arms by the fountain?"

"YOU WERE EAVESDROPPING?!" Any calm that Thranduil had previously tried to retain left him. He was that sort of _ellon_ who hated above all dishonesty and he considered spying on others to attain information about oneself to be a form of duplicity of which he did not approve.

"I DID NOT MEAN TOO," Gíl-wen shouted back. "I WAS JUST TAKING A WALK…"

"Really… " said Thranduil dryly, not at all convinced.

"YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME?!" cried an incredulous Gíl-wen.

"Should I? You have only just begun to be honest with me." Thranduil was exasperated. Here his beloved was yelling at him over a tiny, insignificant matter. He had called Berethiel a name playfully, and to be honest, to get Gíl-wen's attention, but he had not done anything other than ask Berethiel for advice on how to woo Gíl-wen. Apparently Gíl-wen had happened upon the scene, misunderstood what she saw and now leveled accusations at him for his behavior. She did not calmly come to him asking for an explanation; she was livid and demanding, not to mention accusing, and neither his temper nor his pride stood for such treatment. He reverted to his kingly demeanor, seeing before him an angry, lowly_ elleth _with whom he need not bother until she saw sense, instead of his beloved princess who needed to be treated both kindly and firmly.

"Do not ask me to trust you, Lady Gíl-wen, when I have no cause to. You have shunned me, spied on me, accused me of a treacherous misuse of your affection and wilful trifling with the affections of another_ elleth_. None of which have I done. Lady Berethiel was pushed in my direction by yourself– I merely honored your wishes. Whatever you think you saw near the fountain was not what you so vilely accuse me of. You should perhaps question calmly before you make such dreadful accusations, but apparently, you do not trust me anyway, so you are free to assume with the rest of the Noldor what a heartless and egotistically Sinda I am! Your opinion matters not to me." With these last words, Thranduil turned away and proceeded to walk off.

Gíl-wen was struck speechless as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Her heart was shattering into a million pieces as the realization that she had indeed lost her temper without giving Thranduil a chance to speak in his defense overwhelmed her. She blinked twice as salty drops wetted her cheeks, and she looked hopelessly after her beloved.

Celebrian stood dumbstruck in horror at the quarrel that had just occurred and at her cousin's less than courteous last words. It took both _ellyth_ a few minutes to return to the reality of what had happened before either moved. By that time, the Elven King was gone.

Gíl-wen wanted to double over in agony and cry her heart's content, crumbling beneath the weight of her sorrow in utter helplessness– but she could not. This was her fault. And Thranduil would never trust her again. She had spurned him, mistrusted him, accused him, angered him. She had lost his friendship along with his love. But she would not falter. She wiped the tears furiously from her cheeks and, pushing away Celebrian's arms, as the _elleth_ had moved in to comfort her, she strode determinedly in the opposite direction of the Elven King.

Left alone on the pathway, Celebrian herself burst into tears and, wiping them away, turned on her own way to find Elrond. As she wandered down the path, the once bright blue sky turned to grey and a torrent of rain descended upon the forest. _So much for a wondrous Lothlórien in the Springtime_, she thought dejectedly.

She did not think then of the fresh blossoms and the verdant greens that even the most violent of deluges can produce.

* * *

**And the plot thickens...**

**BrownEyedGirl87: I am not sure if you wanted more of this… but things will look brighter in the near future.**

**Lady Silverfrost: Good relations are in some very troubling waters… I am sorry...**

**VivianChaotic: I shall indeed!**

**Alicia457: Hello! Welcome to my story! I am not sure if you are this caught up yet, but when you get here, if you are still with us, thank you for taking the time to review each chapter as you read! And thank you for liking this tale!**

**gginsc: hmmmm… well… ummmm… no… sorry… Berethiel is the only safe one at the moment.**

**Darcy Lyons: Thanks! I hope you are still super excited after this.**

**Guest: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA so that was a typo– Gíl-wen is dark haired; though my sister and I were discussing the possibility of her having lighter hair when she was little. I did change it to 'raven' in one of my drafts, just forgot to when I posted. And, Glorfindel will find love… not to worry...**

**May East: Sorry, no Finwë or Glorfy… but they shall return soon...**

**Elf With Redbull: AGHHH! I seriously love your pen name… ok… so many crazy ideas floating through this head of mine every time I type it! ;) thank you for being inspiring. And yes, Rondy is the bunny watcher!**


	23. Chapter 23: Thranduil Proposes Again

**Hello Lovely Peoples,**

**So school drools. I apologize for not getting this update earlier. But one thing led to another and then I hit a dry uninspired spell and ****voilá, I could not write. So my sis helped me write the middle part and I stayed up late last night to finish this for y'all.**

**As school had started, I will post an update hopefully weekly. Also, my friend has just finished a one-shot about Fin and his future wife ;) so hopefully that will be posted as a teaser for all of you who love him too. **

**For those of you Finwë Fans, check out the new chapter in _The Many Adventures_. It is staring Little Legolas!**

**For now, here is Chapter 23– Finwë dreams, Elrond comforts, Berethiel puts people in their place, and Galion and Aglar are totally love-struck!**

**Enjoy.**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

The torrents of rain that fell upon the Golden Wood drenched the earth; however, the flets and the elves in them remained relatively dry. The _talan_ were constructed in such a way that the large and leafy boughs of the _mellyrn _sheltered their inhabitants from any inclement weather. Elrond and Finwë had decided to stay in their abode rather than to brave the sudden spring shower, though the little bunny was a bit dejected that he did not get to consume any of Amroth's wardrobe. Instead, Finwë found himself sleepy–well a little frightened in fact upon hearing the steady sploshing of rain in the trees– but Finwë the Brave could ever be scared, unless, of course, Erestor was somehow involved– there was the housekeeper's omnipresent threat of cooking the bunny for supper; who wouldn't be scared? Well... a "sleepy" Finwë found himself shivering and Elrond brought out a spare robe in which the creature could snuggle. Finwë blinked his bunny eyes in gratitude at such a act of kindness–the Lord of Imladris understood him in a way in which his housekeeper would never. He nestled into the sleeve of the warm garment and soon forgot about the storm and the terrifying thought of being turned into rabbit stew. He dreamed instead of carrots and lettuce and a whole family of bunnies to join him in his adventures.

Elrond resumed his reading book, and was prepared to settle in for the evening as well, when he detected a different sort of noise coming from the branches below. Through the heavy fall of the rain came the soft sobs of an _elleth_. He set down the book and went to the edge of the flet to peer down onto the forest floor. What he saw, made his heart break in anguish. Celebrian sat huddled at the base of the _mallorn_, hugging her knees to her chest, trying to calm herself.

Elrond quickly descend and gathered his beloved into his arms. She in her turn clutched him tightly, her tears now spilling freely on his shoulders. Disregarding all propriety,he climbed back up into his_ talan_, hastening to wrap her in a warm cloak. Then, seating himself on the bed, the _peredhel _drew the upset _elleth_ into his arms once more and proceeded to stroke her back in an effort to calm her.

"_Meleth_," he murmured pressing a kiss to her hair. "What ever is the matter?"

"Gíl-wen... Thran... quarreling... oh, El!" the maiden cried dejectedly. "Promise me that we will always have the the good sense never to leave the other when we are angry. Promise me, El! I could not bear it if you walked away from me without seeking to solve what had upset you." The look she gave Elrond was full of anguish and desperate pleading; he did not know what had occurred, but he could only guess that his cousin's fit of anger had not ended in reconciliation.

"Oh course, _meleth_," he assured his betrothed. "I will never leave any issue unresolved. You are my life; my other half." He pressed another lingering kiss to her forehead. "I could not hurt you so. What happened between Gíl and the king?"

"A grand misunderstanding. You know how Gil was trying to avoid Thranduil?" Elrond nodded, remembering how his cousin had explained her plan to him. "Well, he decided to make her jealous by dancing with Berethiel and ended up flirting–just flirting–with her. Alright, flirting a lot. And Gil overheard them by accident. But they were just messing around. And then she furiously accused Thranduil of toying with both of them, and he stormed off, and..." She took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. Her hands clutched his shirt and her face buried itself in his supportive shoulder.

Elrond held her even more tightly and began to rock her back and forth. "It will be alright," he murmured into her hair. "If they are meant to be together, everything will work out. All we can do is be there for them when they need it." Celebrian's chest has stopped heaving; her breath was now slow and deep. "I know that it is difficult since you are close to both parties in the matter, but I do not want you to worry about it." The last thing the master of Rivendell needed to deal with was two sobbing women on his hands. To say nothing of his love for Celebrian and his cousin or his desire to spare them pain, he was finding that lately he was being called upon to be the love advisor with increasing–and frankly alarming–frequency.

Celebrian sighed again but was much calmer now. "I just need to... collect my thoughts," she whispered. "Thank you, _meleth_, for being here for me."

Elrond lifted her chin with his forefinger. "I will always be here for you. I promise," he told her, and pressed a gentle kiss on her soft lips. They sat in intimate silence until the rain had stopped.

* * *

The rain ceased, giving way to a refreshing evening with a gentle breeze. Galion led Aglar out again into a clearing so that the elk could graze a while. As he stood there watching over the majestic mount, the butler hummed some strands of a Sylvan melody happily. He leaned back against the tree and closed his eyes– ah, delightful, peace...

"What is that you are humming?" a pleasant voice broke through his daydreams. He opened his eyes to find Berethiel standing near Aglar, petting his nose. Aglar looked positively besotted.

The butler, surprised at the closeness which the elk was allowing, as Aglar did not let strangers approach him, did not respond to the first question. Also, in truth, this elleth who actively helped his king to win Gíl-wen's love intrigued him. Whether he did so purposely or not, Galion decided to flirt with her.

"Do like him better than the King? Personally, between the two, I find the beast more pleasant."

The _elleth_ laughed a merry laughter, like the twinkling of little bells in the... Ah, if only he could always make her laugh...

"Certainly, he is much better behaved," replied the _elleth_ in kind. "And his nose is much softer... "

"Have you petted the king's nose?" To Galion's delight, she laughed again.

"No, I can only imagine though," she winked at him. "Have you?"

"He is my butler, Berethiel, not my nose petter!" came an irritated voice from behind them, and both the elves turned to a rather put out Thranduil.

"I suppose if you got an itch..." Berethiel began to defuse what she saw to be an angry Elven King.

Galion laughed merrily. This _elleth_ had spunk; it did not however, deter Thranduil's present temper.

"I can scratch it myself," retorted an irritated Thranduil. "Besides, it is unlikely that the only person whom I would let do such an action will be unavailable for good." The king crossed the clearing to where the elk and the elf maid were standing and buried his head comfortingly in Aglar's broad shoulder, groaning in desperation. Aglar looked sympathetically out of the corner of his eye at his master, but then returned his attention to the more pleasing ministrations of the _elleth_.

"Is everything well, sire?" asked an instantly concerned Galion. Thranduil could get angry–very angry–when it was a matter concerning his people or his family, but rarely ever did the Elven King let his irascibility show when it concerned a matter of his own personage. For him to be this moody, not even cheering at a good joke from a pretty maiden, something must have gone awry.

"It is perfectly fine, butler," snapped the king flippantly, angry, darkened eyes turning towards his servant. "Prepare for our departure in the morning."

"Sire?!" exclaimed the surprised _ellon._ "You are certain? What about the Lady Gíl– "

Galion found himself on the receiving end of a majestic finger pointed disapprovingly in his face, as well as a sneering monarch. How Thranduil could move so fast and fluidly, the Valar alone knew.

"Do NOT dare mention that Noldor's name in my presence. Ever."

Scared by the sudden storm of fury that had come over his king, Galion stood shocked into sudden silence. He could not even stammer a response. It was Berethiel who came to his rescue.

"Sire," edged the _elleth_, laying a gentle hand upon Thranduil's outstretched hand. The king turned to look at the maiden and his dark eyes soften slightly to a look of sincere apology. He turned to face her, taking her small hands in his, forgetting his shocked servant for the time being.

"_Tithen bereth nin_, I am sorry if I have caused you any offense by my forwardness. I did not intend for you or your heart to get caught up in this mess. I do care about your well-being. Perhaps you would forgive my foolishness, and accept my honest suit instead. You have mentioned you wished to see the rest of Middle Earth. Will you accompany me to Greenwood?"

It was Berethiel's turn to gape in amazement at the volatile king. Was he not just professing his love to Gíl-wen only the evening before? Someone needed to knock some sense into him. Forgetting all propriety and inter-realm relations, the young _elleth_ recovered quickly from the shock of a near proposal and did just that– she released her hand from Thranduil's grasp and struck him soundly across the cheek.

"Snap out of it!" she cried. "I refuse to let you leave this forest without the Lady Gíl-wen by your side as your betrothed. Whatever fight or argument the two of you have had, you will swallow your pride and go resolve the issue. And if it is not an argument, you will work even harder to gain her approval. I KNOW SHE LOVES YOU! Do NOT give up on her. And stop with the Noldor business. We are all elves." The glare she gave the Elven King made him shrivel in humble obedience, and Thranduil hung his head, massaging his temples dejectedly. Galion looked in loving awe at the maiden who had not only had the gall to lift a hand to the king, but was also lecturing him like the petty little elfling he was currently acting like.

Seriously, the butler thought to himself, she _would _be coming back to the Greenwood, if he had anything to say about it. He wondered if she would like the position of butler's wife. It was currently quite available.

Thranduil's response brought him back to the gravity of the situation at hand. "I fear that I have unwittingly burnt all bridges in that regard; our reconciliation is improbable. Given the fact that today showed that we are not at all complimentary in temperament. Nay, I will be leaving tomorrow and leave her to the Balrog Slayer. He is much better suited to her than I."

It was Berethiel's turn to shake her finger angrily. "Don't you dare say it, my lord. A fight here and there, or a few angry words in confusion or misunderstanding do NOT make for incompatibility. Whatever happened, even if this affair does not end in your marriage, which it will , do NOT leave Lórien until you mend whatever rift has come between you two. She is hot headed. You are hot headed. You have a fire in you that that Balrog Slayer can never give her. I have heard her tell stories of his courting and he is too soft for her. Even if you have to carry her over your shoulder to get her to go to Greenwood with you... _Ai_! _Ellyn_!" was the last remark that the _elleth_ huffed in exasperation, before turning passive aggressively back to Aglar.

"I do not know what we shall do with your master, _glî_, (honey) perhaps you should follow me and we can both return when he has seen sense. That way too, he wont be able to leave since you shall be with me." And with one last angry glare at the king, who by this time had looked up at the maiden in utter bewilderment, Berethiel gently guided the elk away from the scene and on to greener pastures.

Galion's merry laughter broke the awkward silence that had ensued upon the depature of the elleth and the elk. Thranduil, shook out of his stupor, and turned a pathetic glare to his butler. But Galion was not deterred. Berethiel had put his royal friend in his place and there was nothing left for him to do but be merry.

"She is quite right sire," he concluded. "You should not leave until you have mended things with Lady Gíl-wen. And as you have been utterly rejected by your "little queen" you have no other choice but to seek a solution."

Thranduil sighed dejectedly and mumbled uncharacteristically under his breath. "I have utterly ruined things and she does not trust me."

Galion sobered and put a comforting arm around his friend's shoulders. He motioned for him to set on the ground, and he began the task of listening to his king's woes with a sympathetic ear.

"YOU SAID WHAT?!" Upon conclusion of the king's tale, Galion was appalled at how the king left Gíl-wen. It was true that the princess had been angry and jumped to conclusions, but that did not justify the things the king had said to her.

"I was angry," supplied Thranduil weakly. "She accused me of cheating without giving me a chance to defend myself... "

Galion looked at is monarch aghast. "So, you did the same, Thran, by refusing to talk things through with her and automatically jumping to the conclusion that she did not trust you. She is jealous, Thran, confused, torn between one she loves and another who loves her. She does not know how to act and only sought to rectify the suituation. She was upset."

"A queen should not lose their temper... "

"A king should learn to deal with it... "

Thranduil groaned defeated and put his head in hands.

"It is not hopeless, sire," came Galion's comforting voice. "Go to her and apologize and explain. Is not your love more important than your pride?"

The Elven King lifted his head to regard his butler curiously. "Since when did you get to be an expert on love?" He questioned.

His friend was right; he had acted rashly, his wounded pride disallowing him to solve the love quarrels, instead allowing him to dismiss his beloved altogether.

Galion laughed merrily at his king's inquiries, rising to his feet to go after a certain_ elleth _that had enthralled him. "Since Berethiel slapped you in the face. I decided that when you marry, I shall nothing better to do with my life, and so I shall wed the only_ elleth_, save Gíl-wen perhaps that has the strength to put you in your place."

Thranduil rubbed his cheek thoughtfully. "She did hurt me, but then I suppose I needed it."

Laughing heartily at his friend, he extended his hand to help the _ellon_ from the ground. "Come, sire, we should go to find our lady-loves. You to apologize, me to woo."

"What makes you so sure that both of them will be receptive to our advance?" the king asked hesitantly. He had seen the error of his ways, but was unsure if Gíl-wen would forgive his ungracious comments.

Galion, on the other hand, harbored no doubts.

"Because they are both sensible and would not wish to be condemned to a life without us."

"You do not even know, Berethiel."

"You barely know Gíl-wen."

"I know her well enough."

"Then you should know she will forgive you." And with that the two _ellyn _left the scene both in search of true love, one in search of forgiveness.

* * *

**IKhandoZatman: Seriously, you win for wittiest comments ever. I apologize for the drama. I think I was in a bad mood when I wrote it and I took it out on my characters. Hopefully this chapter repairs things...**

**VivianChaotica: I like dancing in the rain… apparently my elves like fighting in the rain. Rain is awesome.**

**BrownEyedGirl87: I hope this one makes you laugh. And I hope you like Berethiel's spunk… she is much more forward than her sister;)**

**gginsc: My thoughts exactly, though my sister seems to be on Team Gíl-wen. I personally hate it when people assume things. Personally I think Thranduil did very well with her, until he stalked off...**

**Lady Silverfrost: It was inevitable.**

**May East: I feel very sorry for Celebrian, and I apologize for portraying her as a cry-baby… but I just feel that she would be a very sensitive soul, and deeply affected by anything that affects people who are dear to her.**

**MorfindelthePhysicist: I think Gíl-wen is pretty upset for the wrong reasons; of course it hurts Thranduil's pride, that she doesn't trust him… Someone needs to lock these two in a closet until they makeup...**

**Optymistka: I was wondering where you went… I need to go read your story now. Love dragon-Thranduil!**

**Larien Larry Arnatuile: Thank you! Here is an update! **


	24. Chapter 24: River of Dreams

**Hello Readers,**

**A quick update for you... Gíl-wen slips and dreams... **

**Also, on another note, check out _LaraIsWrite_ and her story _Snowflakes and Stardust_, it is a one-shot about Glorfindel's future true love... I have it in my favorites or you can just search for her profile. **

**Enjoy... and let me know what you think; reviews help me write faster ;)**

**L'Chaim... Philosophie88**

* * *

When Gíl-wen left the scene of the confrontation, hopeless, wondering aimlessly around Lórien in the pouring rain. It did not matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Her heart was broken.

If she had ever been unsure of what she had felt for the Elven King, now, thanks to the dull aching inside, she was quite certain that her feelings had been true for him. Even to go back to the comforting arms of the Balrog Slayer would now be inadequate. What was it about the Sindarin _ellon _that had captured her heart and caused her to act so rashly. Well, her rashness had led her to dismiss him as well as any hope that he would be hers forever. There was nothing left for her to do but to go back to Imladris and accept the Balrog Slayer's suit in truth. She would be a docile wife for Glorfindel and pour her heart and soul in devoting herself to him. Perhaps in time, true affection would grow.

Gíl-wen wandered near to the banks of the Anduin, blindly following her feet, more aware of her aching heart than the direction in which she was going. She sat for a while under the shelter of a _mallorn_ near the riverbank, before resuming her sorrowful roaming of the forest.

The rain had long since stopped when she found herself directly in front of the roaring river. A tree had fallen across the water and invited her to be adventurous.

Cautiously, she clambered up onto the fallen log and putting one foot in front of the other, made her way out into the middle of the water.

As she placed each step upon the timber, she mutter to herself in time.

"Stupid... foolish... girl... of all... the..." with the last step, Gíl-wen found herself spluttering in the freezing torrential waters of the river. A normal Gíl-wen would have swam, shivering to shore, but the upset Gíl-wen sighed defeatedly, and closing her eyes, let the river current carry her farther upstream. She couldn't feel the cold; she couldn't feel anything... perhaps it was better this way.

* * *

Gíl-wen dreamt of a little elfling with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was carrying a little practice bow down a woodland path and humming merrily. The scene shifted and she saw a little _elleth_ playing with baby bunnies in a garden– the elfling look so much like her, and yet, she had ice cold grey-blue eyes... Her dreams seemed to fast forward and Gíl-wen saw herself with both the elflings, showing them a small bundle– a fast-asleep baby _ellon. _And then the scene shifted yet again. The elfling from her first vision was grown into a young _ellon _and resembled the Elven King, of all elves! He was seated by the fireplace with a little _elleth _on his lap who had deep auburn tresses. Surrounding him were the _elleth _ and _ellon _whom Gíl-wen had seen in her previous visions, but who were now adolescent elflings themselves. The older _elleth_ from the dream looked up and smiled at her. "Nana.." she said before that scene too suddenly shifted and Gíl-wen found herself looking at herself in a large bed holding two identical baby _ellyn _in her arms. She looked tired and her hair was unkempt. Her double turned her head up to gaze lovingly at the _ellon_ who sat with his back facing her–the real Gíl-wen could not see his face– "You must rest, _meleth,_" he said lovingly. His voice... it sounded so much like Thranduil's. "_Gíl nin,_" he said again and bent to kiss her.

* * *

"_Gíl nin... _" The dream had ended and yet, Gíl-wen still heard Thranduil's voice... "_Gíl nin, _wake up, _Gíl nin_, please, come back to me..."

He sounded so far away. Where was he... the princess blinked back into consciousness to find herself wrapped in a warm blanket and in the arms of the Elven King.

"Thran..." she began weakly, but her statement was cut short by a passionate kiss. When it ceased, she blinked again, snuggling into his warm embrace, sure she had been forgiven, and fell once again, fast asleep.

"What happened?" asked a distressed Thranduil of Elrond, when he saw that his beloved had fallen fast asleep yet again. "Is this normal? Will she be alright?" The king had founded his beloved floating in the river, almost lifeless. After quickly rescuing, he and Galion rushed her to Elrond for diagnose and relief. Celebrian, Berethiel and Laîrenelle had helped the _ellyn _ to change her clothing for warm ones, and they had wrapped her in a blanket. Thranduil then had held her in his arms, rocking her closely to his heart, afraid to let her go even for a second. After about an hour, Elrond had told him to wake her gently, and the Elven King had done so, and then promptly kissed her, so overjoyed was he that she had woken.

"Well it is obvious that your kisses tire her... " came Galion's pertinent remark. A glare came to him from the Elven King, while Elrond hurried to reassure the concerned monarch.

"She is no doubt stressed and tired from the days events; it does not help that she fell into the river. Her breathing is once again normal; she should be fine, so long as you keep her warm. She needs rest; we will leave you now... I know there are things that need to be mended between you both. Wait until she is well again." He looked sympathetic at the Elven King, before leaving the room with the others. Galion alone paused before leaving, his tone concerned for the well being of his royals.

"Will everything be ok, sire? do you need anything?"

"I will be fine, Galion," said the king softly. "I just need to wait... to hold her and never let her go. To think I almost lost her... I did not realize that my words drove her to..." his voice broke off dejectedly. He could not bring himself to fathom the possibility that Gíl-wen had thrown herself into the river in despair.

"You do not know for certain, sire," comforted Galion gently. "She could have had an accident. I do not think that she would have despaired so easily."

Gíl-wen smiled in her sleep, content in her dreams, and Galion gestured to the small happy movement. "See, sire, she is content where she is... focus on that... and all will be fine." He bowed slightly to his monarch and left the king and his beloved in peace.

Thranduil bent and placed a gentle kiss on Gíl-wen's forehead, and the princess continued to slumber peaceful. The king leaned back into the couch and rested his head upon the pillows. Tomorrow he would beg her forgiveness; tonight he would hold her close– she was his world. He would never again let her go, or flee from her presence in anger. He resolved there and then to mend things immediately if ever conflicts arose and to put her before his pride in all things.


	25. Chapter 25: Galion and Berethiel

**Hey Readers,**

**So this is a teaser because I am swamped with research papers and school stuff and job hunting, but I am working on the next chapter... so look out for it next week. **

**I did original plan for Berethiel to be Glorfindel's but then Galion came along all lonely and stuff... #greenwood ellyn are stealing hearts**

**Enjoy! **

**And if you find it in your time and heart to leave a line, a word, a question or a rant, please do! It helps me update faster and pay more attention to my story. Can't let you down!**

**L'Chaim... Philosophie88**

* * *

Galion followed the other elves out of the_ talan_ where Gíl-wen was recovering. Elrond and Celebrian went off to the left whispering sweet nothings to each other, while Laïrenelle bade farewell to her sister and went off in search of Rumil. Berethiel lingered near the foot of the _mallorn,_ humming to herself the soft sweet Sylvan tune she had heard Galion sing earlier that evening.  
Galion was irresistibly drawn to the enchanting _elleth_. Without so much as a warning, he approached the maiden and, wrapping an arm about her waist spun her around to face him and drew her in close. She gasped surprised by the familiarity, but then met the butler's lovesick and challenging gaze with a coy smile and snuggled into his shoulder willingly. He sway them both back and forth, dancing slightly and resumed the Greenwood melody. Neither spoke for a few moments, but relished the tender embrace the other gave.  
"I cannot let my king claim all the presents Lörien has to offer," Galion murmered into Berethiel's hair as he held her in his arms. She laughed softly and replied:  
"Nay, you cannot. Though Gíl-wen is from Imladris, so she does not count. I rather think that you and your king claim spoils everywhere you go."  
"'Tis lucky for us that their inhabitants do not protest too much... "  
"Well no one will for me that is certain; but did not the Lord Glorfindel strongly object Thranduil's pursuit. I heard interesting stories... involving bunnies… "  
It was Galion's turn to laugh as he recalled the infamous evening. "Ah yes, Finwë, he always seems to interrupt at the right moment and the housekeeper of Imladris seems to always be involved somehow. Well, the mighty Balrog Slayer cannot argue with true love. He shall find someone ere the end. But you my lady are distracting me from my current conquest… "  
"Am I? And here I thought I was the conquest?"  
"Yes, you are, and I think I am doing fairly well in the undertaking."  
She pulled away from him slightly and regarded him wryly. "Sure of yourself, are you?"  
He tapped her nose playfully. "You are not protesting over much. Indeed I should think that you rather like your current captivity."  
She snuggled back into his arms. "I do indeed. I am drawn to you, Butler; I noticed you yesterday attending the king. I think he got in your way a little..."  
"It was merely a ploy to make Lady Gíl-wen jealous; he did not have his sights set on you. I would have hated to secretly have to dispose of a friend and a king."  
"You do not even know me, and yet you would resort to kinslaying?" she questioned.  
"I will get to know you, sweet one, and loves makes us all foolish."  
She looked tenatively up at him. "Could this be love?"  
Galion's eyes twinkled merrily. "Well, it is certainly not just a friendly conversation." And running his thumb over her lips, he bent in to bestow a kiss upon them– to which she responded quite enthusiastically.

* * *

**IKhandoZatman: Galion has all sorts of sass. Now he has love-sass.**

**VivianChaotica: Then I shall not stop writing. ;)**

**Optymistka: Thanks. Get your laptop available. And update your dragon story...**

**MorfindelthePhysicist: ERMAGERSH... more fluffiness!**

**glassary: Thank you. After I wrote it, I thought about the Two Towers movie where Aragorn falls in the river. Hahaha. Though I totally did that unintentionally.**

**BrownEyedGirl87: Hope you like this romance. :) Don't worry, Laïrenelle will get some too... Just waiting to get back to Imladris.**

**Elf With Redbull: Thanks! This is just an interlude here. Back to the main story in a bit.**

**Qeani: Hey Ms. Darcy! This should answer your question. I felt the need to write something light and fluffy.**


	26. Chapter 26: A Reconciliation

**Hello Darlings,**

**Here is a fluffy, fluffy, fluffy chapter.**

**Well, it is almost Valentines. I know it's short but I do have school. Next time, be prepared for a return to Imladris! **

**Enjoy, and for all you Americans out there: Go Hawks! ;-)**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

The sun's first rays shone through the branches of the _mallorn_, illuminating the flet and the slumbering elves within. Gíl-wen shifted slightly in Thranduil's arms and then blinked awake. Her eyes came to focus on the still sleeping form of her Elven King, while her thoughts retraced the events of the previous day.

It had begun so pleasantly, with the prospect of love and marriage and then it had ended so suddenly in a torrent of misunderstanding and cold, wet rain. Then there had been her unintentional slip into the water– she hoped that Thranduil did not think she had foolishly thrown herself into the river because he had spurned her. Gíl-wen loved Thranduil with all her heart, but she was a grown _elleth_, who could deal with her own mistakes and not waste away simply because she had been rejected. She was indeed in a despairing mood after the confrontation, but not so dejected as to throw her life away willingly. There were others to think of, even if Thranduil did not forgive. Glorfindel for one would be devastated by her demise, and Elrond also would most likely follow her to Mandos and demand from the Vala that he release her back to Middle Earth until she had schooled Celebrian in her duties as Lady of Imladris– such was the love of her cousin. No, she would not have foolishly given up, though her heart had been ripped from her chest.

But, there was no need to dwell on such thoughts any longer. By the secure warmth of the king's arms around her slender frame, Gíl-wen knew that he had forgiven her, saved her and was claiming her for his own. She snuggled into his tight embrace and sighed contently, taking in the musky scent of Wood-elf. He smelled like forest– pine and spring all combined into one.

"I love you, Thranduil Oropherion," she whispered into his chest.

"_Gíl nin_," murmured a sleepy voice from above her. She tilted her head to see Thranduil looking lovingly down at her. "You are awake, _meleth_; are you well now?"

Caressing his cheek tenderly, Gíl-wen replied affirmatively: "Yes, I am much better, for I am in your arms. Can you ever forgive me for my rashness?" She knew the answer but she had to ask.

The king placed a brief kiss on her lips. "Of course, _meleth_. Can you ever forgive me for walking off? I should not have left you angry and upset; my pride got the better of me."

"There is nothing to forgive, _aran nin_. I should not accused of you of infidelity. You were not even mine at the time. And I suppose I should not have eavesdropped, though it was not intentional, I promise."

"I should not have been so hasty to conclude such, _gíl nin_. I assure you, however, that Berethiel was a willing participant in my subterfuge, moreover, what you saw was only her and I practicing."

"Practicing?" The princess questioned curiously.

Thranduil laughed softly. "Ah, yes! She was helping me practice winning your hand. I am not the best with endearments… "

Gíl-wen joined in his mirth. "But I _am_ the grapes of your wine?"

He winked at her. "Most definitely," he assured her, and drew her in for a slow and passionate kiss.

Thranduil lingered in the kiss and let his hands roam over Gíl-wen's delicate body, as if trying to memorize her every curve. He had almost lost her, and he would not, could not, imagine life without her. In that brief instant, he felt almost sorry for the Balrog Slayer.

It was Gíl-wen who broke the kiss, intent on breathing for a while. When she pulled away for air and when she did so the king inquired hastily: "Is something the matter, _gíl nin_?" and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Nay, _meleth nin_. Your kisses only rob me of breath. As much as I love them, I feel they are better appreciated if I am alive."

"Ah, yes!" agreed Thranduil. "And I appreciate you much more alive." He hesitated, unsure if he should continue his next thought, but then ploughed ahead, determined to bear all his worries to his future queen from that point onward.

"Gíl-wen," he ventured cautiously and seriously. "You did not... yesterday... the river... you did not… " He could not bring himself to accuse her of despair; she was so strong in his eyes and the mere possibility that she may have given up all hope affected him greatly. He did not understand why he had found her body floating in the Anduin bereft of most life.

Thankfully Gíl-wen interjected quickly. "Oh, Thran, darling, I am sorry to have scared you so. I was sorrowful the other day, but more upset at my own stupidity than anything else. I am afraid that slipped on a log and fell into the river. Thran, I would never give up on life so easily." With her last phrase, she reassured him by locking gazes with him. The sincerity and remorse in her blue eyes attested to her truthfulness and Thranduil bent in yet again to reward her with another kiss.

"I thought not," he murmured, when at last they had parted and Gíl-wen was once again laying her head upon his chest. He idly played with strands of her raven hair. "I could not bear to think that I had driven you to such an extent." He turned her face up to him and regarded her seriously. "I am sorry for my last comments to you the other day. I care very much about your opinion. Indeed, yours is perhaps the only one I do hold in high esteem, save perhaps Galion's... "

"Oh, Thran," she chuckled at the mention of the butler. "I am glad that I am _on par_ with your valet. And darling, I know your pride drove you to distance yourself from me." She reached up to caress his face and gently pull it to her own. Their nose touched sweetly. "Perhaps we should put this whole horrid mess behind us and let neither our rashness nor our pride get in the way in the future."

"That, _gíl nin,_ is a very good idea." The nose kisses gave way to ones much more passionate on the lips, and the morning consisted of small talk for Gíl-wen and Thranduil, interrupted by the sweet kisses of forgiveness every few minutes.

* * *

**BrownEyedGirl87: Thanks for the love and the rant. I needed both;) I am glad you like Berethion ;)**

**CordeliaWho: Stay tuned for next chapter. It shall be longer and we shall be going back to Imaldris ;)**

**gginsc: Galion is the best!**

**Lady Silverfrost: Thanks for pointing that out! I corrected it. I got a new tablet and it is a-insertbadwordhere-to use when typing stories… but I got it. :)**

**Kai-aala: It's really their own faults. I try to let other elves have the spotlight and these Greenwood jerks are just like: Nope, not happening Phil; we get all the awesome attention. I am glad you like the story. We will be hearing from Fin soon about the usurping of his ****_elleth_**** and his spotlight. Stay tuned.**

**Guest 1: Here is MOAR! **

**Optymistka: They are, aren't they? #woodelflove**

**Guest 2: Actually, no. Legolas' wife is the daughter of Maefaron, the caption of the guard. If you read ****_The Many Adventures, _****it kinda gives her history in there a bit. Galion and Berethiel both have blonde hair. Though their daughter does end up marrying Legolas' younger brother, Ferolas, and their son is best friend's with his little sister, Mîreth. I haven't thought up much more of those characters beyond that point, but they will be featured in the future chapters and stories. Thanks for asking.**

**MorfindelthePhysicist: There aren't any bushes in the Greenwood to beat around. Just trees. ;)**


	27. Chapter 27: Can't Shake This Feeling

**Hey Dears,**

**We are skipping ahead, but you all will find out what else happened in Lórien, don't worry.**

**This is the chapter you have all been waiting for… sorta… ;)**

**Don't murder me, but I had to have a cliffie, at least once in my career as a fanfic author.**

**Enjoy,**

**Philosophie88**

* * *

Glorfindel had decided to go on a ride that morning. For some reason, he was not quite sure, he had awoken that morning with a certain queasiness in his stomach. Knowing that elves did not easily get sick, he wondered why he had such symptoms, but brushed such thoughts aside with the knowledge that he had been inactive as of late and was suffering from a lack of activity. Not to mention, he was sorely missing Gíl-wen. Perhaps it was her absence that pained him; never fear, he thought to himself, he would simply ride out that day with the hopes of catching her party on their return from Lórien. It had been about a month since she and Elrond had left for the Golden Wood and they were due back any day now. Besides it was better to get out off the Last Homely House as Erestor was busy preparing for his master's arrival, as well as bunny-proofing–Finwë most likely hadn't learned any manners on his trip to Lórien– and eagerly snatching every elf who crossed his path and putting him or her to help with the various tasks of cleaning and whatnot.

As the Balrog Slayer rode across the Bruinen and out onto the plains, he thought about his love and the fruits of her sojourn in Lórien. He was assured that she had missed him as much as he missed her and that their reunion would be one of joy. Finally, he would be able to all her truly his. His years of waiting would be over and her heart would be his. But as he rode, that ill feeling in his gut persisted despite his own cheerful outlook that everything would be more than well.

After about an hour or so, he dismounted to give his horse a rest, when he spied a group of riders on the horizon. As eager as he was, Gíl-wen had asked for space before she left, and so, in honor of her request, Glorfindel waited, rather impatiently, for the company to approach.

A few minutes later he was greeted by Elrond.

"Well met, _mellon nin_," cried out the elf lord from his mount as he came to a halt where Glorfindel was standing. "Did Erestor kick you out of "his" house, or are you truly so eager to see me?" Glorfindel flashed a wry smile at Elrond before he eagerly searched the rest of the company for his beloved.

"It is not you I am eager to see, Elrond, you know this," his eyes found Gíl-wen's– she was as beautiful as ever, but she looked tired and stressed, not in the least eager to see him, and she smiled weakly at him. Before he could rush to her side, the _peredhel_ interrupted, drawing his captain's attention back to him.

"Ah, well, I never knew you missed Faladir that much." Faladir was Glorfindel's second and accompanied Elrond on mission's where the Balrog Slayer was himself absent. "He has missed you much, and he brings a few of Lórien's elves to train under you." Elrond gestured to the elf in question as well as a few handful of elves dressed in the armor of Lothlórien. Glorfindel greeted them each in turn and was sufficiently distracted from his beloved, though he spared her a glance every so often.

Something was definitely wrong with the situation, but Elrond did not want him addressing the issue in public, obviously. Glorfindel frowned inwardly and continued the journey back to Imladris alongside his second, Faladir. Faladir kept the Balrog Slayer engaged in a conversation about the daily life of the personal guard of King Amroth, and very rarely let him have a word edgewise. Confused, Glorfindel listened to the_ ellon_ half-heartedly, playing over and over again in his mind everything that could have gone wrong with Gíl-wen. He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he did not notice that the party had made its way into Imladris and were dismounting to go inside the house.

"My lord," Faladir's voice broke through his musings. "Are you going to dismount, my lord?"

Brought back to reality, Glorfindel did another sweep of the party and found that the majority of elves had dismounted and were leading their animals away. Gíl-wen was absent from the party– she must have gone inside already. Not wishing to lose one moment more, Glorfindel was off his horse and thrust the reins into the surprised hands of his second.

"Take care of him for me," he yelled behind him as he crossed the courtyard to find his beloved and figure out what in all of Arda was going on.

* * *

"I cannot distract him forever, Gíl-wen, you must speak with him," urged Elrond of his cousin. The two had already made it to Elrond's study by the time Glorfindel had come to his senses. Gíl-wen stood at the window that overlooked the courtyard and watched as her once-suitor crossed it hastily in an effort to find her. She sighed helplessly. She had been so worried on the way home and had gone over just exactly how to break her news to Glorfindel with Elrond each night on the journey. Her usual solution, one of which her cousin did not quite approve, was avoidance. As long as she did not have to talk to the Balrog Slayer, she could not break his heart.

"Gíl-wen," said Elrond a little more softly, "I know it is going to be difficult, but you must tell him."

The princess turned to face the _peredhel_: "I know, Rondy, but did you see his face? He was so happy to see me and I… I must break his heart…"

Elrond frowned at his pet name, but drew her in for a hug anyway– Gíl-wen resorted to using such "endearments" when she was stressed– that has to be the only logical explanation for her continual butchering of his name…

"You must do it though, _gur nin_; you will find that today it will be hard, but he will get over it eventually." Elrond did not doubt that his friend would recover. He felt deep down that Glorfindel's love for his cousin was merely a great infatuation and that it would pass in time and the Lord of Gondolin would find his _feä_ mate in another soul. He firmly believed that Gíl-wen was meant to be Thranduil's queen, just as firmly as he knew that Celebrían was to be his bride. His cousin sniffled into his shoulder:

"Do you really think so, Rondy? He won't fade… he won't die?"

Elrond sighed in his turn. How wonderful it would be in a few centuries when they would all look back on this and laugh, content in the arms of their beloved mates… for now, the Lord of Imladris maintained his role as love-affair counselor. "I am sure that he will not."

A soft knock at the door, followed by Glorfindel's inquiring voice, caused them both to look in that direction.

"I will leave you to speak with him," the _peredhel_ told his cousin. And he bent to bestow a reassuring kiss on her forehead. "You both will be fine." With that last certainty, he moved to open the door.

* * *

Glorfindel ran into Erestor in his haste to find his princess.

"Will you watch where you are going, captain?" demanded an irritated Erestor. His arms were full of a rather frightened fluff of rabbit who looked beseechingly at the Balrog Slayer to save him from his present captor. "I have already been waylaid by this rabbit whose time in Lórien has not taught him any manners. Where are you hurrying off to anyway?"

Glorfindel took the bunny that was being shoved in his direction and scratched him on the ears, while inquiring of the housekeeper the whereabouts of the creature's mistress. "I am sorry, Res, I can certainly take the dear thing from you. I am on my way to find Lady Gíl-wen anyways. Do you know where she is?"

Erestor's look became one of infinite sympathy. Odd, thought Glorfindel, and he wondered what had happened to the princess while she was away. "She is with Elrond, Fin. I am sure she wants to speak with you." The housekeeper paused as if he was reluctant to say what came next. "I will be here if you need me, _mellon nin_." But Glorfindel had barely registered these words and he threw a quick "thank you" over his shoulder before turning quickly in the direction of Elrond's study and resuming his quest.

Erestor look hopelessly after him. "Good luck, Balrog Slayer. I am sure you will find happiness one day."

* * *

Taking the stairs two at a time, the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower wasted no time in finding himself in front of Elrond's study door. He knocked softly and called out politely: "My Lord Elrond, Lady Gíl-wen?"

It was Elrond who opened the door and bid him enter, with a sympathetic look and a gentle, but firm touch on the forearm.

"She is waiting for you, mellon nin, go to her. I will be waiting, if you need me." Glorfindel looked in confusion at the Lord of Imladris, but went forward anyway to where his beloved was standing. Her back was turned away from him and she was gazing out the window.

The mystery to her strange attitude and all the pitying looks he had been receiving were revealed in the moments that followed, and Glorfindel realized that the feeling in his stomach was not one of sickness, but rather one of ill foreboding.

* * *

**BrownEyedGirl87: I think I shall make you wait some more ;)**

**Arelia-Liera: My pleasure. Another update for you.**

**IKhandoZatman: OMG, sorta jealous of you right now, I am in the midwest and surrounded by Bronco's fans. WTF.**

**Optymistka: Update yours!**

**Qeani: Erestor is about to fall in love… stay tuned… hehehehehe...**

**MorfindelthePhysicist: I really hate spelling your name. I am going to go beat my head against a tree if I can find one in all this snow.**

**MayEast: Not sure who you are referring to: Gil and Thran have eight (cause Thran had to outdo Feänor) ;) and Galion and Berethiel have three, two of which end up marrying Gil/Thran's children. Hope that answers your question**


	28. Chapter 28: And I Will Always Love You

**For ****_Vivian Chaotica_****, cause she checks my stories a couple hundred times a day. I stayed home from school and wrote this chapter for you. **

**(Actually I didn't want to drive in the snow; but I did write this before doing the tons of other things I had to do… )**

**For all you others, I wrote this for you too ;) Now all of you must go look up Whitney Huston's hit,****_ I Will Always Love You_**** and listen to it while you read this chapter. I give you each a box of virtual tissues.**

**I wish I could say enjoy.**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

**P.S. Answers to reviews will be posted in the next chapter, because I just have a hard time writing stuff after this ending. I think I broke my own heart as well.**

* * *

_**If I should stay, I will only be in your way… **_

_**So I'll go, but I know, I will think of you every step of the way...**_

_**So goodbye.**_

_**Please don't cry… We both know that I'm not what you need...**_

_**And I will always love you… My darling, I love you...**_

_**~Whitney Huston**_

* * *

"Gíl-wen, _meleth_?" questioned Glorfindel uncertainly. The princess had still not turned to face him and he was unsure of what to expect, given everyone's strange attitudes and the worry-worn expression he had seen upon Gíl-wen's countenance when she first arrived.

Gíl-wen turned slowly to face the Balrog Slayer, glinting tears threatening to spill from her eyes. In a rush, Glorfindel deposited Finwë on an empty chair and came to gather her in his arm; however, she did not bury her head in his shoulder and instead resisted the embrace and wiped furiously at her tears.

He stood there before her, confused and unsure of how to proceed, with a miserable look upon his countenance that made her heart break even further at the news that she had to relate to him.

"Fin… I… " she began hopelessly.

"What is wrong, _gur nin_?" he reached out to take her hands hoping that at least this small gesture would be received. She pulled back. He frowned, and awkwardly stood, unsure of how best to offer comfort. "Why do you shy from me, _meleth_?"

Gíl-wen picked at the edges of her sleeve as she was wont to do when she was nervous. She could not look him in the eye so she looked at the floor instead.

"Fin… I… " she began again. _No_, she thought to herself in the process, _this is not right, I must look him in the eye. I must let him know that I will still be his friend but that I am certain I love Thran. I am to be a queen after all. I can do this._ She took a deep breath. Bravely, she raised her head, ceased her garment picking and met his gaze. "Glorfindel, I must end our courtship."

There was that moment right before his death when the whole world had stop. His long life flashed before his eyes and he knew it was the end, as he let the fiery flames consume him. He had never reckoned that he would relive such a moment.

"Wh… Wha… Why?" he stuttered incoherently. "I thought… I thought that Lórien… " as brave as he was, the Balrog Slayer could not finish his sentence, nor bear to think on the implications of Gíl-wen's admission.

The princess took another deep breath. "I thought so too, but when I got there King Thranduil was there as well, and well… I did try Fin, I promise. I refused his advances at first." She added adamantly in her defense. "But somehow we were drawn to each other, and... I love him, Fin. I really do and it is not fair to any of us if I do not follow my heart." She looked pleadingly at him as if her bright sad blue eyes could gain his forgiveness when she knew her actions would not.

It was Glorfindel's turn to breath heavily.

So.

This was it.

The king had succeeded in winning her heart.

"He was there?" He questioned for clarification.

"Yes."

"He professed his love to you in kind?"

"Yes."

"You will be moving to Greenwood, then?"

"Well… yes… "

Glorfindel shut his eyes and swallowed.

It was over.

Truly.

All over.

He had two options. He could rant and rave and guilt Gíl-wen into staying with him, or he could let her go. Let her go to an ostentatious king, who rode a woodland elk– well, at least he loved her, and she would be a queen. It was not an easy decision. It made his choice to slay the balrog look infinitely childish.

He opened his eyes to find her gazing at him with utter sincerity and the pleading look to assure her that everything would be alright.

"Fin…. I… " He would not make this harder on her than she was making it herself.

He smiled at her lovingly and reached out his hand.

"I understand, it was inevitable. Will you grant me one last kiss, my lady?"

Gíl-wen's own heart broke for him as he uttered these words bravely. Though she ignored his outstretched hand, she reached up to stroke his cheek tenderly.

"Of course, my mighty warrior. You will find someone who loves you with as much love as you love them one day, Fin, you do know that?"

He nodded in assent, but then and there his world was shattered and he highly doubted it. He bent in to relish the last taste of her sweet lips that he would ever have.

Neither deepened the kiss, though both lingered in it. It was Gíl-wen who pulled away first. "Will you be alright, Fin? Will we still be friends?" She asked hesitantly.

Glorfindel chuckled softly. "Of course, my lady. Your heart may not be mine, but your friendship shall always be."

And in his mind he added:

_"And I will always love you… "_

She hugged him briefly. "Thank you, Glorfindel, for understanding."

With that last gesture, she noticed Finwë in the chair beside them and hurriedly excused herself to see after her pet. In all honesty, it was awkward now that things were over and Gíl-wen was struggling not to break apart from her waring emotions. She need to go to her room and think, to read the letter Thranduil had sent with her reassuring her of his love and remind herself that what she had just done was worth it.

Glorfindel watched her go stoically.

He was numb.

The sickness in his stomach gave way to a hallow emptiness.

For how long he stood staring after her, Glorfindel could not rightfully say. The next thing he knew he was being embraced by a pair of strong arms and he felt a wetness against his cheek. Rough hands brushed at the wetness and he realized that they were his own tears that were staining his cheeks. For once in his life, he cared little about bravery.

He clung to the strong figure like a small, scared elfling and sobbed.


	29. Chapter 29: Randy's Girl

**For my sister, who believes that Thranduil would be kicking and screaming and locking Gíl in his dungeons if it were he that were slighted, Randy and I would like to prove you wrong.**

**For all those of you who needed a happy chapter after what I wrote previously, I promise that this is still humor/romance, not angst.**

**For those of you would really want to know who comforts Fin, patience is an excellent virtue.**

**For those of you who like sleeping bunnies...**

**This chapter is for you.**

**Enjoy,**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

Gíl vuin nin,

_(My beloved star)_

_When you read this letter, I want you to remember three things._

_You are proud. You are from a lineage of kings. You keep your head held high no matter what happens._

_You are beautiful. It is your soul that makes so. Like the stars in the night sky, you illuminate the darkness. Like the sun on a spring day, you warm the last bit of frost that has lingered from the winter._

_You are strong. You will weather the test of hard times. You have not faded in the absence of those who love you. You can stand alone._

_But it is not your lot any longer, my beloved star. I am yours. I will stand by you. I am honored to have your pride, your beauty and your strength by my side as my queen_.

_Remember this_, gíl nin, _when you have to talk to the Lord Glorfindel. Remember that I love you with all my heart and that you complete me._

_Remember that we have found each other in spite our own efforts to stay apart. I can only hope that Glorfindel will understand._

_If anything you have told me of his personality is true, and it had better be for him to even have advanced his suit and you to have accepted, I am sure that he will understand. He loves you, of this I am certain. Indeed we both have found ourselves before the oasis in the desert and we dare not drink until the goddess that governs it bids us do so._

_It is only your good grace and the Valar's blessing that has granted me my desire and my love to be return. The Lord of Gondolin must sadly love from afar. But for some reason, I am sure he will do so with grace and bravery. He will remain your friend_, gil nin,_ for your friendship is a blessing._

_He will remain your friend and graciously not let you see his suffering. I think, were I in his shoes, I would do the same. For to truly love, one must be able to let go. Love seeks the best for the object of its affection. Love does not hold on, nor cry when it is assailed. Love is brave._

_That is why,_ gil nin, _if you should tell him and he accepts his fate, but you should in any way regret your decision and wish to be bonded to him instead, I release you from those words we spoke on that lovely Lórien evening._

_I am eager for your love and_ _eager for you to be my queen; yet, I cannot make you do something or choose someone you do not wish._

_Take this time, _meleth nin_, to decide where your heart lies._

_I shall attend my cousin's wedding to the_ peredhel _in a year's time. Take time from both your eager suitors. And know that we love you both._

_I wish I could say that my love was more than the Balrog Slayer's; I wish I could come and steal you away and make you mine, but those actions would be those of a knave and I would not win your love in the end with my false protestations of affection._

_You know that I love you. You know who I am– my own prideful and ostentatious ways that you so love to criticize, and you, _gíl nin_, you keep me humble. You keep me measured. You keep me young._

_That is my defense for your hand. I can only hope it is enough._

_I do hope that Glorfindel has those in Imladris that he can rely on, if you truly decide that you are mine. He is an honorable ellon, and I do wish him the best in his life. If you stay true to your words in Lórien, know that he will certainly find love ere the end. His heart is too large and generous not to, nor would the Valar be so cruel as to bring him back, bereft of love._

_If your heart truly is mine, for mine is yours, then it would be a discredit to him if you lingered in that relationship. Neither of you are deserving of unhappiness._

_I hope this epistle helps you to sort through your thoughts and feelings._

_Whatever you decide,_ gíl nin, _I will remain,_

_Yours Truly,_

_Randy_

Gíl-wen tenderly caressed the signature on the white parchment and laughed softly at the nickname that the king had penned. Unlike Elrond, Thranduil used his nickname to suit his own purposes.

* * *

"Aren't you coming, boys?" Gíl-wen cried over her shoulder to the two _ellyn_ who were engaged in quite a discussion. Apparently they were arguing over some paltry details of the War of Wrath, and quite engaged in their debate. Celebrían and she had gone ahead, but today was a warm day and the water was inviting, and who really argued meaningless history in the face of a good swim anyway?

"Hey, Rondy, Randy, hurry up, oh, mighty lords!" Gíl-wen turned to Celebrían and snickered at her own cunning. "Rondy… and... Randy… " Celebrían gracefully rolled her eyes as befitting the daughter of the Lady of Light, Elrond raised an infamous eyebrow, while Thranduil looked amused.

"Well, Rondy, do you think we should finish this conversation later?" the king asked the Lord of Imladris impishly.

"Not you too, Randy," bemoaned the son of Eärendil.

Thranduil turned his rather amused and yet serious face to the _peredhel_ and stated, much to his own beloved's delight: "I rather like the name. Call me Randy anyday. It is perfect for undercover; a great fit when such a marvelous name as Thranduil just won't do for the occasion." With these last words he crossed the path to his beloved and scooped her, squealing, into his arms, hurrying off down towards the river.

Elrond looked on in slight horror. Celebrían doubled over in her pealing laughter.

* * *

Ah yes, thought the princess, that was her Randy. She wasn't certain if Glorfindel would ever do such a thing. The Balrog Slayer could be playful and childish at times, but he never could master the art of humble ostentatiousness. Gíl-wen felt that, around her, Glorfindel was always careful with his jokes, respectful of her title and treated her as a delicate flower whose petals would fall if looked at. Thranduil, on the other hand… Well, Fin had certainly never hauled her over his shoulder into a river.

Gíl-wen sighed, and laying aside the letter, went to tuck a blanket around Finwë's sleeping little form.

"Ah, Finwë," she soliloquized. "Here I am caught in the middle between two mighty lords who both love me to the extent that they will let me go to the other. Glorfindel loves me and I feel safe and treasured with him. Thranduil loves me and I… well… my heart races when he is near and I feel like a queen in his presence. Oh, I know, Finwë, it's cause he is a king, but really… his eyes, Finwë… they are so beautiful and I love to get lost in them. And then there are his kisses. Fin can kiss, but Thran… he _can_ KISS. I have never been so breathless than those two weeks in Lórien. I feel so right in his arms too; I only feel… well… I am not sure what I feel in Fin's arms. Safe? Content?"

She looked down to see her rabbit still fast asleep, little caring who won her love. "Ah, silly me, why would you care anyway? Though if we move to the Greenwood, you could terrorize Galion instead. My little dear." And she bent down to kiss her slumbering bunny.

She moved back to get into her own bed when she tripped on some small object that had been misplaced on the floor. Cursing softly, she bent down to pick it up.

It was a pinecone.

The pinecone.

She sat on her bed staring at it for a few minutes before she came back to her senses.

There in that little token was her answer.

Thranduil had not even meant it as a gift of affection, but she had unconsciously kept it. Fin's flowers were all gone; she had tossed them before she had left for Lórien, not even keeping one to press sentimentally between the pages of a book. She thought she had tossed the pinecone as well, but then she remembered wistfully placing it on the bedside table after second-guessing herself. She had forgotten about it until now, and must have knocked it off when she got up to see to Finwë.

Gíl-wen believed in signs. She believed that events happened for a reason. She wasn't sure what her future held; she wasn't sure if Glorfindel would find another to love, but she _was_ sure that Thranduil was her other half. It took only that small object to calm any qualms she had or any lingering unpleasant feelings she felt for breaking the Balrog Slayer's heart.

She was Randy's girl.

With that last thought, the daughter of Gíl-galad, princess of the Noldor, fell asleep curled in her blankets, with one hand clutching a woodland pinecone and the other the letter from her Woodland King.

* * *

**gginsc: You are onto something. You do not have to wait patiently.**

**BrownEyedGirl87: Combining all your comments… Erestor love to happen soon, so you will be happy and not sad any longer :)**

**Qeani: More Rondy for you ;)BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Erestor has CDO…. Bwhahahahahaha! I can't get over laughing cause it is so true and slightly funny. Thank you for the compliment on the last chapter. Don't worry Fin won't fade. I won't let him**

**Elf With Redbull: Seriously every time I type your name I have this picture of little Legolas running around the throne wired… Ah! Ok… It will all workout for Glorfindel. I got his back! I will not let him suffer too much.**

**Kai-Aala: I am very glad you think Gíl and Thran's personalities match better. I think so too (obviously;)) but I tried to write them that way and wasn't sure if anyone would pick up on it. Thanks! Here are some virtual tissues. I listened to ****_ I Have Nothing… _****WHY DID YOU SUGGEST SUCH A SONG. NOW I AM SOBBING MORE WITH YOU. But honestly, thank you, it fits very well and has given me more inspiration.**

**Optymistka: Here is your happy update! Fin thanks you for your feels...**

**Michelle1294: If you check my list of favorites, there is a story by LaraIsWrite called ****_Snowflakes and Stardust,_**** it is the story of Fin finding true love. He does have to wait awhile but in the meantime he is stoically happy. As this story is about Gíl-wen, we won't get to see much of Glorfindel's romance, but you will get to see his resolution and his own happiness. :) Everything works out in the end.**

**May East: He will be happy indeed. lol. I almost used your…he killed a balrog… line in this chapter… PRICELESS… if you don't mind, I may use it in my next chapter;) And about Gíl-wen outdoing Nerdanel… hehehehe… I have a plot bunny brewing!**

**Lady Silverfrost: I think so too… I feel that if you really love someone you would do the same thing.**

**Arelia-Liera: Sorry you don't get to find out who it is right now… but I will update quickly**

**Morfindelthephysisicstsisisit: I hate your name. Officially. It hates me back. We are over. So over. But I love you. I really do. Just not your EVIL name.**

**LittleNK: Check out ****_Snowflakes and Stardust_**** in my favorites… you will feel better for Fin, I promise!**

**VivianChaotica: My pleasure. Thank you for the compliment. I do my own awkward happy dance in gratitude. Btw, are you a Whovian? If so, I hope you are doing the wiggle dance with a bow tie on and some suspenders :) If not, look up ****_ The Doctor Dances At Amy's Wedding _**** on YouTube. I am certain this is what you were trying to look like! **

**I hope I got everyone… I tried to reply to both posts from this last chapter as well as chapter 26. Y'all can PM me if I didn't answer a question, or give you enough love. I really do appreciate everyone's feedback and my own little fan club! You guys are the best.**


	30. Chapter 30: Not Broken

**For _K_****_ai-Aala_, whose comment helped me overcome my own despondency and finish this scene, this chapter is for you.**

**To _MorfindelthePhysicist_, who helped me through the mental block I had near the middle, thank you.**

**To Pink, who is one of my favorite singers, you, woman, are literally an inspiration.**

**For my dear Fin-fans, this is the chapter wherein Glorfindel is comforted. **

**For all of you who ship Glor-estor, this is not slash. Erestor likes **_**ellyth**_** in this one, he just doesn't know it yet. **

**Erestor is just the friend that all of us prolly have at least one of you– that one who you don't feel awkward crying around, who will tell you when your underwear is showing nicely and then use it as blackmail later, and who will help you commit grand theft auto and then wonder what went wrong when you both are sitting in the back of the police car. He is just that kind of guy.**

**I tried not to make this chapter about him, but I just love the **_**ellon, **_**as much as I have Finwë trip him and mess his sh #$ up!**

**I think this is my longest chapter to date, but I just ship these two... in the friendship sort of way...**

**Virtual snaps to whoever catches the **_**Game of Thrones**_** reference...**

**Enjoy!**

**L'Chaim... Philosophie88**

* * *

He had never ever in his long life comforted anybody. He was not entirely sure what to say. He did not have much, well any, experience with love, besides that of course of his family. He had no siblings he had ever had to console, and he was not close to many elves. However, Glorfindel was his dearest friend, one might say best, and Erestor was determined to offer whatever form of support the Balrog Slayer needed. Apparently, at this moment, it was literally a shoulder to cry on.

Erestor had not expected this. He had overheard one of the guards gossiping to one of the maidens on the kitchens that the Lady Gíl-wen had accepted Thranduil's offer of marriage. He berated the guard for making up such nonsense, but Faladir arrived, much to the relief of the simple soldier, to confirm that such an occurrence was not merely servant gossip. Utterly surprised and bewildered, he had rushed to find his friend to make sure he was taking the news well; in his haste, he was tripped by that confounded Finwë, and obviously reached the Lord of Gondolin before said Lord had himself been informed of the affair.

So the Housekeeper had expected his friend to be sullen or to rant and scream and break things in anger– Glorfindel was an _ellon _of action, when he was mad, or sad for that matter, he kept his feelings bottled up, venting only on the poor dummies used for sword practice. Occasionally, the Balrog Slayer would confide in Erestor, but that was only in rare instances when he really needed it and Erestor had learned to remove any breakable items that may or may not be within an infuriated Glorfindel's reach.

* * *

"_Erestor!" bellowed a formidable elf-lord still dressed in his training armor. "Res, where in all of Valar's good and holy names are you, librarian?"_

_Erestor peeked around a bookshelf curiously, then ducked his head back just in time as a breastplate came hurtling his way. Narrowly missing him, the piece of steel collided with a vase behind Erestor, as Glorfindel's fists impaled the pillar to his right. The enraged _ellon_ groaned in frustration, and rested his head against his still clenched hands. Erestor eyes widened in shock, yet knowing that his friend was truly upset and not to be trifled with, spoke to him in a soft tone in an effort to calm him down. _

"_Glorfindel," he said gently, keeping a respectful distance and trying not to think of the priceless vessel now shattered on the floor. "Fin, what happened?"_

_His tone was so faint that Glorfindel had to turn his head to look at him in order to catch his words. In those few seconds, the Balrog Slayer had calmed down to a rational state of anger and gazed at his friend with darkened, yet apologetic, eyes. _

"_I can't take this, Res!" He responded vehemently and hushed. "These kids... Don't even know the pointy end of the stick, much less where to stick it!" Glorfindel closed his eyes and sighed, unclenching his hands to massage his head. "And the nightmares, Res, I am still getting the nightmares... and it is trying my patience."_

_Ah, that was it then. Glorfindel did not, as a rule, talk about his previous existence. There were his countless admirers among the younger generation of warriors who relished in his deeds of bravery, but all Glorfindel could remember was the searing pain and the blistering heat and his beloved city in ruins... It was not as glorious as the tales. And he had nightmares. He had once cried so loudly in his sleep that Erestor and Lord Elrond had come rushing to his side from their chambers in the dead of the night to comfort him. _

_These days were not easy for the once Lord of Gondolin. Gil-galad had set him to task training warriors to fight against Sauron, the long hours of tedious work coupled with restless nights made for a grumpy and rather volatile captain. _

_Erestor sympathized completely with his friend. The warriors-in-training were cocky, over-confident upstarts, without the humility conflict has a natural way of instilling in a fighter. They did not know what it was like to face death and defeat; as of yet, all they knew was safety and glory, and Glorfindel, mighty Balrog Slayer that he was, had to somehow beat some sense into their inflated heads. It must be trying. _

_Erestor crossed the room to his desk and pulled out a chair._

"_Come, _mellon nin," _he said without a trace of irritation that the _ellon_ had just come barging into his sanctuary and upending his peace. "You must be truly weary; here, have a seat and rest. And tell me about your dreams."_

_Glorfindel sighed another sigh and took the offer. Talking about his past life made it easier to deal with and lessened the nightmares that plagued his slumber._

_For few minutes Erestor listened intently to his every word,and then kindly and reassuringly reminded him that his work was not in vain and "those boys would soon learn". _

_Not once did the Balrog Slayer break forth in tears of any sort, and ended up jokingly apologizing to the librarian–for Erestor was not yet the housekeeper–_

"_I am sorry that my breastplate broke your vase, Res, it had an affinity for ill-crafted jugs, a gravitational pull that ended badly."_

_Glorfindel chuckled at his own humor; Erestor rolled his eyes._

* * *

He sought Erestor out whenever the nightmares were too much for him to handle, or whenever he needed a break from those miscreants whom he trained. But he had never, ever, not even when his memories and night terrors were at their worst, cried in Erestor's arms.

Here he was now, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, mighty Balrog Slayer, crying like a babe upon his shoulder.

Erestor held him close and waited for him to cease his tears on his own terms.

Glorfindel's heaves softened to sniffles and he pulled away from his friend, wiping his eyes as he did so.

Erestor regarded him with compassion and understanding.

"Sorry, Res," Glorfindel sniffed. "I don't know what came over me."

"Oh, I don't know," replied the Housekeeper teasingly. "Perhaps you had something in your eye."

Glorfindel stopped all sniffling and starred in bewilderment at his friend. Erestor met his gaze with a bemused one of his own, a slight twinkle in his eye. He always tried to joke with Fin when he was upset, perhaps it would work in this case as well. Apparently it did. Glorfindel burst into hysterical laughter.

"I was being serious!" Erestor defended himself in mock-seriousness, punching Glorfindel in the upper arm. "I always begin to weep and wail when that wretched rabbit gets dirt under my eyelids."

The other sighed, his brief outburst of hysteria subsiding. "Oh, Erestor," he said, "it was neither dust or a rabbit in my eyes, but a princess, and she got into my heart. I fear getting her out will be much harder than it was for her to slip in."

Erestor wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulder and shook him, oh so gently. "Hey now," he murmured. "It will be alright eventually. You might not see an end now, but life goes on."

Glorfindel sobered slightly, observing him with a look both wearily mournful and somewhat confused. "How would you know, Res? I don't think you have ever been in love, much less had your love unrequited."

Erestor smiled slightly, not hindered in the least by his lack of experience in such matters. "Well, you know, Fin, remember the other day how you wondered about all these books in my "dusty library" and asked if I had read them all?"

"Yes; you answered affirmatively, which explains your lack of love-life, but not why you are such an expert on the matter."

Erestor rolled his eyes. "You'd be surprised what one learns from histories and the fairytales and the lives of lesser elves no one thinks is important. Everything in those tales happens for a reason. Things turn out alright in the end."

"But that's not happens in all the great tales... Beren and Luthien, Turin and Finduilas... Love always ends tragically in the tales. None of the heroes gets a happy ending, trust me, I know." Glorfindel immediately countered.

Erestor frown at him and rejoined softly. "Fin, your past life does not define your present. You WILL find happiness." The Housekeeper-librarian's books gave him no assurance of the matter, but Erestor was certain his friend had not been re-born to have his heart broken and fade away. What he had with the princess was passing; his true love would come along eventually.

Glorfindel was not so sure. The heart-broken _ellon _dejectedly put his head in his hands. "Res, I'm feel like the Valar sent me back for some sort of mission they forgot to tell me about and that I will never be happy as a normal elf. Gíl-wen was my one shot at happiness. With her, I was complete, I was– "

Erestor would not let his friend wallow in his misery. "Were you? You were ecstatic, to be sure, that she accepted your suit, but I know you, all throughout the courtship you had the sliver of doubt that she did so only out of sympathy, that her heart was never really yours. Let us think about this... Shall I remind you about the flowers, _mellon nin_, your constant striving to impress her?"

"She didn't like my flowers?!"

"They overwhelmed her. I told you this before. It was as if you were trying to buy her affection with floral arrangements."

Glorfindel looked utterly confused. "I thought _ellyth _liked that sort of stuff?"

Erestor rolled his eyes, again. "Fin, why did you give her the flowers?" Perhaps logic would work where common sense would not.

Glorfindel sighed. "Well, I suppose it was to reassure her of my love– "

"Only thrice daily," Erestor cut in to prove his point.

Glorfindel sighed again. "I suppose there always was that little bit of doubt," he admitted wistfully.

Erestor squeezed his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "When you are truly in love, I am sure there will be no doubt." With that little assurance, he rose to his feet and extended a hand to the sorrowful and pensive Balrog Slayer. "Come, _mellon nin, _let us go do something to clear our minds. You slew a balrog; I am certain you can overcome a hurt heart."

"It's broken, not merely hurt, Res," said Glorfindel testily, but he took his friend's hand nevertheless.

"And broken things can be fixed," Erestor replied firmly. "You can learn to love again. Now come, it is still light and you can teach me some new sparring moves."

Erestor hated swords. He hate anything physical in fact, especially dancing. His idea of a good workout was strolling leisurely along a path reading a delightful novel.

Glorfindel had taken to helping him improve his fighting techniques, which were adequate for self defense, but hardly not quite as skillful as a hardened warrior's. The Housekeeper had come up with every excuse not to train with Glorfindel–such an exhausting task–and had even gone as far as to use Finwë as an excuse to stay within the relative safety of the halls he looked after. But Erestor knew that these sessions, sparse as they were, were always a source of infinite pleasure, and amusement, for his friend. He would put his comfort, dignity and leisure aside for the time being and distract his distraught friend with an activity that he knew Glorfindel would utterly enjoy. Sure enough, the Balrog Slayer broke out into a broad grin.

"Are you serious? I have been waiting for weeks to fix your right parry, Res!" He almost squealed the last and Erestor found himself enveloped in a quick hug and then following a rather talkative Glorfindel out of Elrond's study to the training grounds. The Balrog Slayer was babbling on about aspects of Erestor's technique that he could not wait to work on– Erestor followed smiling to himself, not understanding a word.

He was quite smug that he had successfully distracted Glorfindel, and even if it meant weeks of sore muscles and minor scrapes, he would employ this technique until he had exhausted it.

Perhaps he would improve and become a master swordsman after all. He could only speculate. He was quite good if he applied himself. Now was his chance.

But of another matter he was absolutely certain, though he did not have hard evidence to back his hypothesis–he had the gut feeling which skeptics often overlook–this was the matter of his dear friend's heart.

Glorfindel would mend. He would love again.

* * *

_**Just give me a reason**_

_**Just a little bit's enough**_

_**Just a second we're not broken just bent**_

_**And we can learn to love again**_

_**It's in the stars**_

_**It's been written in the scars on our hearts**_

_**We're not broken just bent**_

_**And we can learn to love again.**_

_** ~Pink**_

* * *

**Lady Silverfrost: It IS almost Valentine's Day...**

**MorfindelthePhysicist: Because you left a beautiful and heartfelt review, I spelt your name write. Thank you. I figured my awesomeness could condesend to do such a lowly task. ;) Oh, boy, you bring out the crazy in me! Thanks for the review though! I am glad you appreciated that chapter.**

**Elf with Redbull: Eeek! I know! So romantic! Score one for Thran!**

**Optymistka: So is Erestor. So am I. No more crying FIn now...**

**VivianChaotica: Yes. Priceless. #MattSmithLove I hope this chapter also inspires the wiggle dance.**

**Kai-Aala: You made my day. I had a bad one, and was a little depressed with the lack of comments for the last chapter, but only because it was one of my favorites... I know y'all enjoy this whether you comment or not... anyways, I saw your comment and I was like: Oh, yay, feels... but then on closer inspection I realized that you actually caught onto things in the text like the whole title thing and, eek, I was transported to heaven temporarily! THANK YOU FOR THAT! You are precious. Realize that your words turned a crappy day into a good day and reminded me that the little things we do in our life are noticed. Thank you. Hannon Le. Grazie. Merci. Gratias. If I knew other languages, I would thank you in those as well.**


	31. Chapter 31: A Revitalizing Encounter

**Hey Lovelies,**

**I hope you are all having a wonderful Valentine's Day. If you don't have a Valentine's, you can be mine. This chappie is for you.**

**More specifically this is for BrownEyedGirl 87, who created Laîrenelle for Erestor and who has been begging me for some Erestor-love, here it is.**

**I was so overwhelmed by the reviews, in a good way! You all made my nasty week infinitely better. I sorry to be so down last time... SCHOOL SUCKS! ok. I am good now.**

**I really appreciate that you take them time to let me know what you think of the story... I really never expected this type of response. You guys spoil me!**

**Well, I will let you get to the mushiness...**

**I will post some Thranduil/Gíl love tomorrow. This story is about them, I swear. I am also going to answer reviews then as well. I just wanted to get this chapter up for your V-day gift :)**

**I have to go pick my daughter up from day care. She is only 4 months old and she already has 2 Valentines... and they are little boys... and they aren't related... What ever am I going to do? :) Actually it's really sweet, the babies give each other little teething toys and baby foods... Kids these days...**

**Alright,**

**Enjoy,**

**Hugs and Kisses!**

**L'Chaim... Philosophie88**

* * *

Erestor already regretted his decision to distract Glorfindel from his broken heart. His limbs ached everywhere and his body was drenched in a water-like substance that slightly smelled– he was sweating! He was not even sure that it was possible for elves to sweat, but he had accomplished it. He briefly wondered if he had an ounce of human blood somewhere in his past.

The Housekeeper trudged wearily up the steps, with his practice sword still at his side and his eyes tiredly but intently fixed upon the ground. Just a few more corridors, a few more steps and he could fall upon his nice feather bed in a heap before he went to soak his sore muscles in a nice warn, relaxing, luxurious, long–

"Oh, I am so sorry, my lord!" A high pitched voice broke Erestor's day-dreamy expectations. It was preceded by a dull thud, suggesting that a book had fallen upon the ground.

Erestor came back to the situation at had to realize that he was standing before a shorter _elleth_ with long brown hair and deep chocolate brown eyes. She must have not been paying attention to wear she was going, too engrossed in her book, and he obviously had not been either. They had apparently bumped into each other simultaneously and she had been the first to notice.

Two things happened then that were quite uncharacteristic of Lord Elrond's steward.

Firstly, he remained rooted in his spot, quite at a loss for words. He was usually quite loquacious and had at his disposal an extensive and versatile vocabulary–he was even sure he knew the whole dictionary by heart–but in that moment, he was struck mute.

Secondly, he stared quite rudely at the maiden before him. Normally he would have bent immediately to pick up the book, while lecturing on the proper care and maintenance of the priceless volumes of knowledge. He could not help but take his eyes from this vision. She was so demure and her eyes held a certain sparkle that spoke of innocence and playfulness and sincerity and love all in one. He could not remember his _naneth _ very well, but he had a distant memory of someone who looked at him with so much care and sweetness, that, forgetting himself, he said in response to her apology:

"It is quite alright, _naneth..._" Yes, the great Librarian of Imladris, master of the written and spoken word, greeted the unknown _elleth_ as his _naneth, _and did not even realize he had done so.

The_ elleth _giggled. "I am not sure what your _nana _looks like, my lord, but I fear I am not her," she supplied.

Erestor blinked and refocused; realizing his mistake, he pardoned himself and began the encounter again.

"I am so sorry; it just... well... there is so much kindness in your eyes... " he cleared his throat embarrassingly. _When had he become so open? "_I am Erestor, and I am not really a lord, just the housekeeper... "

"Oh," she replied. "I am Laîrenelle, and I am just visiting with Lady Gíl-wen. I am to be her handmaiden when she becomes queen. My sister and I are that is." She blushed and looked sweetly and inquisitively at him. "Are you also a warrior?" She motioned to his practice sword.

"I am... well... I am afraid not," he admitted truthfully, resisting the urge to boast. _When had become so interested in what others thought of him? _"The only weapon I utilize is my mind. I am also the librarian."

"Oh," her eyes widened in delight. "I love books." This returned both of the elves attention to the book on the ground. They both bent down to retrieve it at the same time and this resulted in them brushing foreheads lightly.

"Oh, I am sorry," murmured Laîrenelle shyly, blushing yet again.

"Oh, I am so sorry," said Erestor at the same time, picking up the book. "Here is your book."

"Oh, well," Laîrenelle hesitated to take the book from him. "It is yours actually. I took it from the library without asking; it was just such a nice day outside... I promise to put it back… "

Erestor laughed softly at her concern. "Don't be troubled, fair one, you can borrow it for as long as you need it. Anyone interested in _The Rise and Fall of Gondolin_: _An Annotated History _must truly love history enough to purloin the only copy from the great library of Imladris to read it on a leisurely walk." He winked as he said the last to assure her that he was merely joking.

She giggled as she accepted the book, blushing slightly at the endearment he had casually thrown into his conversation, and sweetly tucking a lock of her chocolatey hair behind her small pointed ears that had fallen loose in her effort to retrieve the book. "I really do, it is my favorite subject to read on," she admitted. "Thank you very much for this; I will be more careful with it in the future and not bump into any other _ellon _along my way." She winked back at him in kind, eyes twinkling, and continued on her way after gracing him with a benign and beautiful smile.

Erestor watched her continue on her way for quite sometime. His weariness was forgotten.

It seemed that his spirit had been refreshed by that encounter, and while his body still ached, his soul was content to marvel in her beauty.

He resolved then, as he watched her disappear among the flower bushes of the garden, to make it his prerogative to know more of this Laîrenelle from Lorien and her love for history.


	32. Chapter 32: The Woman-stealer Returns

**I am not dead. I promise. I am only buried alive under a pile of tests, psychology assignments, workouts, dance classes, doctors appointments, vics vapor rub, a hurt knee and a teething baby.**

**I had this file open on my mac book since Valentine's day, and every time I would return to it, I would dutifully remember that I had some other appointment to attend to.**

**So, my lovelies, finally, with the help of my dear sister, MorfindelthePhysicist, who wrote the latter half of this chapter, here is chapter 32. Only a half a month later. I apologize. I really love you all and will try to update more regularly. Someone just do my homework for me and another one of you volunteer to watch my child. JK. ;)**

**Well, Happy March! Enjoy!**

**L'Chaim… Philosophie88**

* * *

Faladir rode hard all the way back to Imladris. As he reached the gates, he was met by Glorfindel.

"Faladir," his captain called out in greeting. "Why are you back so early from your outing? Did you miss me already?" Faladir had gone for a swim in the Bruinen but had hurried back quickly when he spotted to riders approaching the Imladris borders. They were glad in the green and browns of their Greenwood kin, and though he had to do a double take, he was certain that one was riding a moose. That meant only one thing. The King had come on an impromptu visit. Again.

Faladir had donned his simple tunic quickly, then hastily mounted his horse and rode to Imladris. His first concern was to alert Erestor, for he was certain that the housekeeper would be quite thankful that someone had informed that the notorious king was on his way. The housekeeper would be beside himself preparing rooms and whatnot– an early notice would save the rest of Imladris from the bad temper that usually ensued when Erestor had his perfectly scheduled and organized world thrown into disarray.

So Faladir had hastened back to the Last Homely House with the intent of notifying its steward foremost in his mind..

The second-in-command gave little thought to the fact the approaching company included the _ellon_ who had stolen his captain's sweetheart. In his haste and attention other matters, his tact abandoned him at that moment as he responded to Glorfindel's question.

"Quickly, Lord Glorfindel," he admonished his superior hastily. "Now is not the time for such jests. We must alert Erestor that King Thranduil is on his way here. Unless of course some other elf has stolen his beastly creature for his own amusement. I highly doubt it... The housekeeper will need to be told. Oh, and I suppose Lady Gíl-wen as well." While he was saying this, Faladir had dismounted and was leading his horse away to the stable where he handed him off to a younger elf-page. Distracted by his speech and the care of his mount, Faladir had merely assumed that his captain had followed him for his tale. In truth, Glorfindel had, but when the guard made mention of Thranduil, the Balrog Slayer had frozen in his tracks leaving Faladir to continue on his way. Faladir turned to see his captain a few paces behind him with a brooding glare upon his face. Only then did the _ellon_ realize the awkward situation in which he found himself. Looking kindly at his superior and his friend, he went over to his side and beckoned him gently inside.

"I am sorry, Lord Glorfindel, for not being more delicate about the matter. We should go inside though, you to inform Erestor and I to inform Lord Elrond." Informing Lord Elrond included informing his cousin, Lady Gíl-wen, but Faladir did not need to drive that home.

Glorfindel nodded, gazing stonily at a bush a few metres away. "You are right, Faladir," he forced himself to say. "It was good that you gave up your swim and hastened to warn us. Let us go in."

The other bowed and quickly began to head for the house. Glorfindel followed at a somewhat slower (although still brisk) pace, having resisted the childish urge to kick a pebble at the bearer of such ill news. "Killing the messenger," as the expression went, was inappropriate. And unleashing his wrath on his second in command would be not only fruitless but also inconvenient on a practical level. Better to save his energy for the real culprit, who even now was approaching the Last Homely House in his usual grandiose fashion.

* * *

After searching all over the house for his friend, Glorfindel finally found Erestor sitting on a terrace with one of Gíl-wen's friends from Lothloríen, deep in conversation. Somewhere in the calm of the back of his mind, his subconscious thought it odd that Rivendell's logistics supervisor would find any _elleth_ interesting in the least. Then he saw the open book on the table between them: "Historical Sketches of the First Age: A Noldorin Perspective." Ah, so the lady was intellectual, was she? No wonder his usually female-shy friend could bear to be in her presence. But Glorfindel in his current state of brooding was only aware of these deductions upon later reflection, after the day's events. At the moment he merely said mechanically, "A party from the Greenwood has crossed the Bruinen," as if he had no feelings on the matter.

Erestor started, eyes widening. "Are you serious?! Do not tell me it is that accursed king again?! That means he will be here in under an hour… " He stood abruptly, history book and lady friend forgotten.

_"No, Erestor, I am making up stories about the _ellon_ I dislike most in Arda for fun,"_ he so longed to answer, but dignity got the better of him.

"Yes, Faladir saw them and rode in haste to inform us," said the Balrog Slayer, sarcasm crushed under foot for the benefit of the _elleth_ present. "He has gone to tell Master Elrond." _That the woman-stealer has returned_, he added again in his mind.

"I had better go and make certain that all is in readiness!" said Erestor, half to himself and half to Glorfindel. He was about to hurry off, muttering under his breath some incoherent babble about _pompous, rude, ill-timed elvish kings… where in all of Arda was he going to house a moose on such a short notice…_ , when he remembered the book. Turning back, he noticed that Laîrenelle was sitting there, looking up at him with concern over his predicament, and mentally smacked his own head, wondering how on earth he had forgotten about his lovely companion with such a knowledge of history. (Glorfindel, of course, could not read minds and did not catch all this at the time, but Erestor confided in him later.) "Laîrenelle, you must forgive me, I have to..." he began to apologize, pointing explanatorily at the house, but the _elleth_ cut his hasty excuses off with a gesture of her own.

"I understand," she answered with a smile, waving her hand as if to whisk away his regret like a cobweb. "You go ahead and take care of your work; we can talk later of ancient artists."

"Ancient artists, yes..." mumbled the smitten_ ellon_, forgetting all his usual eloquence in the warm chocolate of her eyes.

She gave him an utterly charming smile. "Or..." she left it hanging in the air.

Erestor at least realized that the sentence had been left unfinished. "Or?" he prompted, almost anxiously.

"Or anything else you want to discuss," she herself now seemed to be forgetting how to hold intelligible converse. "It... doesn't have to be ancient artists..."

Glorfindel, already in an increasingly foul mood, was growing impatient at this unnecessarily drawn-out interchange and decided to take matters into his own hands. He grabbed Erestor's shoulder and began to haul his friend off in the direction of the approaching visitors. "Let's go, Res," he said, all but crossly.

His friend was still engrossed in saying farewell. "Tomorrow! Will you have any spare time?" he called over his shoulder.

"Yes!" Laîrenelle called back. "After luncheon?"

"Right on this terrace! I will be here!" he promised.

She laughed and waved at his fast disappearing figure. Glorfindel was not stopping for hell or high water... He had a pompous Sinda to deal with.

As they neared the main entrance, Erestor, having returned somewhat to his senses, finally shrugged off Glorfindel's heavy grip. "Hold on one moment, my friend!" he cried, catching the Balrog Slayer's sleeve. "You cannot face a guest of Elrond in such a black temper."

Glorfindel stopped suddenly right in front of Erestor and met his eyes, arms folded and jaw set. "I will always be in such a black temper when that ellon is around," he growled.

Erestor sighed. "I know, Glorfindel," he answered, "but I am not sure if you will be able to keep it to yourself in public."

The other opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment he noticed Gíl-wen open a window above and behind Erestor. She leaned out, an expression of blissful expectancy glowing in her cheeks, presumably to look for her approaching suitor. The anger and sarcasm in Glorfindel's eyes crumpled into wounded silence.

"Do not worry, Erestor," he whispered. "I shall hold my tongue."

* * *

**Tauriel: I hope you have caught up… I am glad you like Gíl-wen and Thranduil… more of them to come!**

**May East: I feel you! School drools… Glorfy will get some love… It just might take a while .**

**Illyra: Wow! I am glad you enjoyed. Here is another chapter for you.**

**Larien Larry Arnatuile: WOW. Thank you soooo much. I want to write a book. I really do. I have this whole fantasy story in my head and have yet to put it on paper. Maybe after I finish this fanfic I will get the courage to write my own ideas. Thank you for being 201. It was the best!**

**Elf With Redbull: Thank You! Go Res indeed!**

**Qeani: Here is some more confused lovable Erestor! More Finwë to come...**

**mMy: Thanks! Here is the rest of the Valentine's story:)**

**BrownEyedGirl87: YAY! Here is some more of your favorite character;) And your own O.C. ;)**

**Kai-aala: Why, thank you. You are one of my many Erestor fans. I swear this story is about Thranduil, but these Rivendell elves keep creeping in to steal the show.**

**gginsc: Yes. Yes. He is. Stay tuned.**

**Lady Silverfrost: Thank you for pointing out my typos. I will go corrected it! I really appreciate it cause sometimes I am just so focused on posting the chapter I don't realize things. I also am dyslexic so I can read things and they are perfectly fine and yeah… not really to other people. THANKS SO MUCH! I am glad you like the Erestor love… here is some more speechless Res.**

**Illyra: Sorry this one is so late… but here is the next chapter hopefully you won't have to wait as long for the next one.**

**glassary: I have plans for these two new love birds ;)**


End file.
